Hogwarts Mystery
by Jill Klein
Summary: Athena Lockhart is haunted by the disappearance of her brother Jacob. With everyone thinking she's cursed too and the foul Merula Snyde willing to make her life at Hogwarts a living hell, can she survive school, find the Cursed Vaults and find out what happened to her brother? With some magic and the help of loving friends, everything is possible.
1. Year 1: Chapter 1 - Haunted

**A/N:** Thank you so much for choosing this particular story to read. I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it. This story happens in the Hogwarts Mystery game scenario, with my character as the main protagonist. The story will unfold along with the game, so while I'm playing, I'll surely upload more chapters. Before we start, I'd like to point out that English is not my mother language, so some misspelling and grammar mistakes may happen during the story. Also, I decided to add verses of lyrics that I think fit well for each chapter. In addition, I'd like to let you know that I have an Instagram page for this fanfic, where I post funny parts of the game, aesthetics and more. If you feel like checking out, it's at jillklein dot ff. Any comments, critiques and concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **IMPORTANT!** I've just found out that there's a fandom wiki page for my story and characters. If you were the one who created it, please let me know, so I can thank you properly. It is so cool! I'm truly flattered.

 _ **This chapter has been rewritten.**_

* * *

 **Chapter One – Haunted**

 _You used to captivate me by your resonating light_

 _Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind_

 _Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams_

 _Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me*_

* * *

Oscar Wilde once said that dreams do come true, but what people forget to mention is that nightmares are dreams too. This is one undeniable truth that I've come to learn. This, and the fact that if I colour my brother's vinyl with crayons, they won't work anymore. We are prone to learning a lot of truths throughout our lives. The most recent one regards woeful images that insist on haunting my dreams.

I've had nightmares before. I think everyone, in a moment or another, is doomed to experience the uneasiness of bad dreams. Whether you're just a kid, flickering your eyelids and trembling under the covers with the unceasing image of a monster that never tires to torment your imaginative mind, or just a puppy that is afraid of the umbrella rested against the wall, the undeniable truth is that nightmares come for everyone.

This time, I'm not dreaming of monsters. No ghosts lurking in the shadows… no demons hiding underneath my bed. The swirling sceneries are dark and sinister, and they lead me to shadowy corners of my unconsciousness, until I can no longer leave. They freeze my soul like water from a wintery lake, piercing my skin like a thousand needles, leaving me breathless. I'm being haunted by these images ever since he left.

 _Jacob…_

I wake up, drenched in a cold damp sweat, with my heart pounding so fast that I'm afraid it might explode from the inside out. I dry the tears that unceasingly fall down my cheeks and look around, longing for the comfort of knowing that I'm wide awake, safe in my own bedroom, and that the worst is gone. The cold that lingers is what binds me to my nightmares. I rub my arms, trying to find any kind of warmth, but it's no use. I feel as if I'm buried in snow.

The soft gleam of my night light fades a portion of my affliction. I get up, trying to walk as silently as possibly not to wake my grandparents, and enter the bedroom across the corridor.

 _Jacob's bedroom._

It's become my night routine to wake up from vicious nightmares and wander around in his bedroom. Somehow, it makes me feel better. I feel, whatever so naively, that he's watching over me. A heavy weight falls upon my heart with the single thought that he might be dead. I close my hands into fists, praying that, wherever he is, he is safe.

"Athena?" my grandmother's voice startles me. I turn around abruptly, only to find her standing by the doorway, eyeing me with concern. "What are you doing in here?"

"I couldn't sleep," I lie, though the truth is I _can_ sleep, but it leads me to haunted places I don't wish to visit.

"I know," she says, walking to me and closing her arms around me in a soothing hug. "Tomorrow is a very important day. I'm sure you're anxious."

Thought I wish this was the reason, there's no denying that it is not. I'm not feeling anxious or nervous or excited.

I'm just… haunted.

"There's no need to be in here, honey," she tells me. "C'mon. Go back to bed and try to get some sleep."

I give one last glance at Jacob's bedroom before returning to my own. Grandma sits next to me in my bed, running her fingers through my hair in a comforting way. I'm sure she's experiencing some despair too, but I'm also sure that when she closes her beautiful amber eyes, there are no nightmares to haunt her dreams. That's why I simply lay there, allowing her to lull me back to sleep, and don't share the dark visions that torment my mind. She doesn't need nor deserves such negativity. It's best if I just keep it for myself.

Even thought, I must admit, I wish I had someone I could share this terror with. Someone that wouldn't look at me with concern nor would think that I'm crazy or frightful.

Someone who would understand…

From the clock above my desk, I can see it's past midnight. Today is the day that I'll finally go to Diagon Alley to get my supplies for Hogwarts. I know I should be excited, but the only thing I can feel is fear. I'm aware of the reputation that Jacob probably holds at Hogwarts and I'm sure people will believe I'll be just like him. It frightens me that I might walk through all seven school years with no friend. The only thing that soothes me is that they didn't know my brother like I did. They didn't have the luck of having him as a sibling.

I did.

That's all that matters.

I don't know how many hours pass before I fall asleep again, but when I wake up, there are strong sunbeams flooding my bedroom and warming the chills inside my heart. Grandma isn't next to me anymore. She probably went to bed after I fell asleep, but the delicious sugary scent coming from downstairs warns me that she's making breakfast.

I head to the kitchen, still is my pyjamas, and find my grandparents already dressed. They seem to be more excited than I am, since my magical education is about to begin. I confess it will be nice to swish a wand and learn everything I can about enchantments, potions and history, but the dark memories and the cold fear return to erase my joy.

There's a big pile of hot waffles on the place I usually sit, along with a bubbling cup of tea. I sit there and Grandma rushes to place a kiss on my head before sitting down to eat too. I look at her and Grandpa and feel happy for having them with me while Mom and Dad are looking for Jake. Grandpa flashes me a warm smile as he puts down his cup and opens the newspaper. He always smells of tobacco and this is a strangely calming scent for me.

It smells like home.

"Are you excited for our trip to London?" he asks.

"Sure," I lie, trying my best to portray an excited smile.

"Our little witch is finally going to Hogwarts!" Grandma shrieks, happily. "Oh, my darling, I'm positively sure you'll be the best witch in that entire castle."

"There's no denying that," Grandma agrees and then winks at me. "She shall bring great pride to Ravenclaw."

Grandma rests her cup on the table, vexed. "How do you even know she'll be placed in Ravenclaw?"

"Look at her! Intelligent as one can be! She'll _definitely_ be placed in Ravenclaw."

"Ravenclaw isn't made of only intelligent folks," Grandma replies. "Do you remember Gemma Klink? Do you remember what an airhead she was?"

"She was an exception, not the rule," Grandpa says. "What about Natalie Beddington, then? She was a Hufflepuff, but she was also a psycho!"

"Don't get me started on Nat Beddington, Sebastian. She didn't deserve to be a Hufflepuff and everyone knew that!"

I snicker, beginning to eat my waffles. Grandpa and Grandma continue their fiery conversation until the meal ends and the plates fly to the sink to wash themselves. In the end, they don't come to an agreement of what's truly best: Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. If Mom and Dad were here, Gryffindor would join the fight.

I wonder what would happen if I was sorted into Slytherin…

I shake my head, trying to erase this sight of this possibility, and return to my bedroom to get dressed. When I return, Grandpa and Grandma are already waiting for me in front of the fireplace.

A trip what would take hours from Sunderland to London, is just a blink of an eye when using Floo Powder. I have travelled through the fireplace before, but the dust still bothers me. In the end, I guess I prefer trains.

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron is just as I remember. Five years ago, when I came with my parents to get Jake's first supplies, it was a gloomy, dusty and funny-smelling place. Five years later, the scenery remains the same. The tables are placed in the exact same spots, the candelabrum on the counter still exhales the same smell of burnt wax and the same old witch from five years ago is sitting in one corner, drinking something are looks a lot like thick blood.

As soon as we step foot on the pub, Grandpa rushes to the counters to greet the barman. Grandma cleans her throat to let him know that he doesn't have all day to sit and chat, but it doesn't prevent him from exchanging vexed expressions and rolling eyes with the humpback man behind the bar.

We leave through an adjacent door and walk towards the small alley behind the bar. I watch Grandpa lift his wand and touch the bricks of the solid wall, in a well-known pattern. It still takes me breath away when the bricks move and twist to form the glorious archway that says: Welcome to Diagon Alley.

It takes no more than five steps for someone to spot us in the crowd.

"Agatha!" someone yells. "Long time no see! And Sebastian! Roger, come here! Agatha and Sebastian are here!"

An old woman with dark brown hair speckled with many silver strands rushes to my grandparents, looking very happy with her bright red cheeks. Right next to her arrives a serene old man that nods at Grandpa and Grandma.

"Roger, Amelia. It's so nice to see you," Grandma says politely. "Have you met Athena? She got her letter last week."

"Oh, hello, dear," the lady named Amelia says, looking at me with a smile, but rapidly looks back at my grandmother. "Agatha, we have so much to talk about! Have you heard that Tristan and Madeline Snyde were sent to Azkaban? It's said that they were helping _You-Know-Who_!"

Grandpa flashes me an accomplice smile. He hands me a bag full of galleons, sickles and knuts, and winks. He runs his hand over my hair, and I smile. Grandpa knows me very well.

I leave my grandparents in their amused conversation and turn around to face the mess and the confusion that is the Diagon Alley. My eyes can barely assemble the mass of people rushing by, purchasing strange objects and carrying smelly bags. I can spot a few stores that I need to visit, but as soon as I venture myself into the crowd, trying to dodge the shopping bags and brooms being carried around, I crash against someone.

"Dear God, I'm so sorry!" I say, rushing to get up.

The girl I bumped into is sitting on the floor, her wide dark eyes staring at me, bearing pure mortification. I offer her my hand and she accepts it with hesitation. Once she gets up, I notice she's about my height and probably around my age.

She swallows hard before speaking. "It's okay. I wasn't looking to where I was going. My apologies."

I smile warningly. "It's okay."

She cleans her throats. "I'm Rowan," she says.

"I'm Athena."

"First year at Hogwarts too?" she asks, her voice a little high-pitched from the sudden excitement.

"Yes!" I answer, happy to find someone who's on the same boat as me.

She opens a beautiful bright smile. "Did you get all your supplies yet? I'm still getting mine. It's so hard to buy only the books required! I feel like buying the entire bookshop!"

My smile widens. "Actually, I just started. I'm not quite sure where to begin."

"I can help you with that, if you want! I've been here with my parents many times before, so I know a few places like the palm of my hand. Specially Flourish & Blotts!"

I giggle softly and she runs her fingers through her black hair, snickering bashfully. She seems to be a wonderfully nice girl and a possibly future friend. I don't even think twice before accepting her offer, which makes her smile again and instantly hook her arm in mine, pulling me to the many stores.

She takes me to Flourish & Blotts first – obviously – and rushes to show me, by heart, all the books that we're going to need and indicating a lot of very weird looking ones that she says she'd love to read. Being a book lover myself, I feel happy for having her with me, all nerdy and thirsty for knowledge.

"My family owns a tree farm," she tells me. "Khanna Tree Farm. It's in Bach. We provide the wood for wand and broom makers. Our farm grows the best quality wood!"

"That seems very exciting," I say, paying for my books.

"Speaking of wood, you must go to Olivanders right now!" she says, pulling me by my hand.

Rowan seems to be genuinely excited about Hogwarts, talking nonstop about how she leaped around the house like an unhinged toad, screaming at the top of her lungs when her letter finally arrived. Her parents got very proud to know that she was a witch too.

We walk through the crowd with our arms hooked, until we finally arrive in front of a very dusty and old looking wand shop. The interior looks a little dark, backlit only by the dim light of small floating candles.

"Rowan!" we turn around, spotting a couple waving at us. By the colour of their cinnamon skins and black hair, I promptly assume they're her parents.

"Go get your wand," she says to me. "I'll be right back."

She rushes to meet her parents and I take a deep breath before turning around to enter the cold, abandoned-looking store. My palms seem to freeze with the nervousness, so I shove them in the pockets of my jeans. My eyes immediately spot an old man standing behind the counter, surrounded by thousands and thousands of wand boxes, that seem to cover every single wall and shelf. The man blinks his bluish eyes at me and greets me with a warm welcoming smile.

"Here to get your first wand, my dear?" he asks.

I nod, feeling weird and a little anxious.

"Allow me to take your measurements, then," he says, approaching me with a measuring tape. "Open your arms like this. Yes, perfect. Now stand still, please."

He measures me from my wrist to my elbow, then from my elbow to my shoulder. I frown when I notice that the tape is moving by itself, stretching to measure the distance between my shoulder to my foot and even from between my eyes. When the tape finally stops, rolling itself back to its original form, the man puts it back into his pocket and walks to the back of the store, between many dusty shelves, coming back with a bunch of boxes stacked on his arms. "Let's give these ones a try, then."

He opens the first box, removing from the velvety cushion a gorgeous wand, made of a light wood. My lips curl in a discrete smile as I wonder if the wood came from Rowan's farm.

"Cherry wood with dragon heartstring. Eleven inches. Very flexible," he tells me, handing me the wand.

I hold it carefully, looking at it under the soft candlelight, and risk moving it around. As soon as I swish it, the papers over the counter fly around, falling messily on the floor.

"I'm so sorry," I say, embarrassed, putting the wand carefully back inside its box.

"It's okay, my dear," he says, withdrawing his own wand from his pocket, flickering it to make all the papers return to its place, in a perfect pile on the counter. "Your brother broke my favourite inkpot when he came here to buy his first wand too."

"You remember my brother, sir?" I ask, anxiously.

I wasn't present when Jake got his first wand. I was just six years old and all I wanted was some ice cream. So, Dad took me to eat a sundae while Mum took Jake to Olivanders.

"Oh, yes," the man says. "I remember every wand I ever sold. Your brother's was maple wood with dragon heartstring. Ten inches. A wand for the brave and righteous. It's a shame they broke it when he was expelled. It was an excellent wand."

I sigh. "He ran away from home after that. Said it was a path he had to follow alone. He's been missing ever since."

I'm not sure why I'm telling this man what happened to Jake. Perhaps after long months of silence, the words just couldn't be left unsaid anymore.

"That must have deeply impacted you, no?" he says, lifting his silver eyebrows.

"I feel bad for him," I confess. "He loved Hogwarts very much. I just… I just hope he's okay."

"Hmmm…" the man says, scratching his beard. "Sensibility might be your greatest strength, then."

He pushes a few boxes aside, opening a specific dusty box and offering me the wonderful wand that lies inside. The scent of the wood immediately affects me, making me feel all warm and secure. "Cinnamon tree with porlock hair. Twelve inches. Flexible."

I hold it, not so hesitantly this time. It's almost as if the wand is attaching itself to my hand; like an elongation of my very arm.

"Give it a try," he says.

I take a deep breath, lifting the wand to wave it lightly. A gentle breeze escapes from the tip of the wand, flowing around me and making my hair move around. A deep warmth floods my heart, making me feel wonderful, invincible and unstoppable.

He opens a satisfied smile. "Perfect! Cinnamon wands are destined for those with sweet and warm hearts, whereas the porlock hair is meant for guardians, since these creatures guard horses. This wand shall be your best friend. Take good care of it."

"I will. Thank you so much, sir."

I leave the store and the outside world is much lighter and warmer than before. I feel as if the anxiety, the cold and the fear completely left my heart and all that's left is a soothing sensation that I can conquer anything.

"Athena!" I turn around, seeing Rowan waving at me from the other side of the pathway. She rushes to me with a big smile. "Did you get your wand?"

"Yes! Cinnamon with porlock hair core," I tell her.

"Mine is mahogany, directly from Khanna's farm! I'm so happy I could burst!"

I giggle. "Please, don't. Who would clean all the bits of brain and gut from the floor?"

She smiles. "I'm glad I met you, Athena. People usually think I'm very strange. Do you think I'm strange?"

"I'm sure people will say the same about me," I say, curling my lips in a comforting smile.

"Who would even say such thing about you?"

I sigh. "Well… my surname is Lockhart."

"Lockhart? As in Jacob Lockhart?" she asks, exasperated.

I nod. "He's my brother."

"The same Jacob Lockhart who was expelled from Hogwarts after breaking all the rules in search of the mythical Cursed Vaults?"

"The same."

"I read all about it on the Daily Prophet. All school will know you're his sister," she says, arching her dark thick brows.

"I know," I saw, sadly. "People will talk and gossip… They'll probably think I'll do the same."

I feel her warm hand landing softly on my shoulder. "It's okay, Athena. We can be weird together."

I smile softly. "Thank you, Rowan. That's very sweet of you."

"But what should I do if people start disturbing you about your brother?"

"Nothing, I guess. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. It will only draw more attention."

"You're probably right. We'll have a lot to occupy our minds, with all the exciting classes we'll attend. We won't have time for trouble," she says.

"Truer words were never spoken," I say. "I'm so happy I met you, Rowan."

The remaining of the day is peaceful and immensely fun next to her. We eat ice cream together – bubble-gum for her, vanilla and caramel for me -, buy our uniforms, cauldrons and potions' supplies. As she gets nauseated just to stand near the basket of beetle's eyes, I get profusely excited while picking extra ingredients, such as many colourful mushrooms and seeds.

By the time we leave the last store, the sky is gaining an orangish tint and a cold breeze starts to blow. Just as I'm wondering how I'm going to find my grandparents, I spot them leaving Eeyelops Owl Emporium.

"Athena, there you are!" Grandpa says, looking happy yet slightly concerned after the long time I spent absent. "Who's your friend?"

"Grandma, Grandpa, this is Rowan Khanna," I say. "She'll be a first year like me. Rowan, these are my grandparents."

"Very nice to meet you," Rowan says, all cheerful.

"Khanna?" Grandpa asks. "Of the tree farm?"

"Yes!"

"I had the pleasure of knowing an incredible man named Mohan Khanna. Remarkably intelligent."

"He was my grandfather!" Rowan says, excited.

"We went to Ravenclaw together," Grandpa says, opening a nostalgic smile.

"He was truly intelligent. One of my role models, to be honest," Rowan says. "Wow! A Great Horned Owl!"

I frown, my eyes immediately searching what she's looking at. They widen when they spot the huge owl inside a cage that Grandpa is holding.

"Oh, yes," he says. "Athena, we got this for you. An early Christmas gift, if I may say so. After all, the wisdom goddess must have her owl, right?"

The owl is immense. It has big yellow eyes, like two beautiful topazes. It produces a slight hoot and blinks.

"She… he… is gorgeous! Thank you so much!" I say, rushing to hug them.

"He," Grandma corrects. "I'm sure you'll be great friends."

My smile broadens as the huge owl looks at me with sunshine eyes. Suddenly, I have the feeling that everything is going to be okay. I have wonderful grandparents and now I have two new friends.

"It's time for us to go home, darling," Grandma says.

I turn to look at Rowan. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

"I can barely wait!" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me tightly.

I head with my grandparents to the brick wall and when I look back, Rowan has already been engulfed by the sea of people. I smile as the archway opens to allow our passage and as we return to the Leaky Cauldron, my heart is warm and immensely lighter. I don't even bother the dust that comes with travelling via Floo Powder.

When the night finally falls upon my house, I tuck myself in my bed as my new darling friend, Twilight, watches over me from the bedframe. His bright yellow eyes are like suns in the darkness, making me feel entirely reassured. Though I'm bound to be haunted by Jake's mistakes, at least I'll go to Hogwarts with friends and the promise that everything, somehow, will be okay.

For the first time, I can't wait to go to Hogwarts.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! If you did, be sure to leave a review so I can know your opinion. If you have any questions, doubts or suggestions, my inbox is always opened. Thank you so much!

* My Immortal, by Evanescence.


	2. Year 1: Chapter 2 - Black Meets Blue

**A/N: _This chapter has been rewritten._**

* * *

 **Chapter Two – Blue Meets Black**

 _Old Hogwarts Sorting Hat sing me a song_

 _Speak in my head tell me where I belong_

 _And when things look bad and there's nowhere to run_

 _Unite all the houses and we'll fight as one*_

* * *

If you have ever travelled by Floo Powder, you probably prefer any other way of transportation. Floo Powder is messy, dusty and can give you one hell of an allergy if you have sensibility to it.

That's why a prefer trains; they're nicer, comfortable, allow you to rest, enjoy the landscapes, eat and not worry about getting dust all over your clothes. Though the Hogwarts Express is slightly different than other trains, it still allows me to do the same things. Only this time, I'm not travelling to Plymouth to visit some relatives while eating a tuna sandwich and being annoyed by loud passengers. This time, I'm travelling with my new darling friend, Rowan, through beautiful scenic views from England to Scotland, while eating a ton of chocolate frogs.

We're the only ones sitting in our compartment, which leaves extra space on the seats for us to lodge and share a bunch of candy and chocolates. Rowan is talking nonstop about her favourite book so far: Hogwarts, A History. Apparently, she's even nerdier than I am, and that's a very reassuring fact.

"I reckon I'll love History of Magic," she says. "It's said that the professor is a ghost! Isn't that exciting?" and she proceeds to shriek in joy.

"Well, I think I'm going to love Potions," I tell her. "I've been watching my grandmother making amazing potions my entire life and I think it's pretty fantastic."

"But I've heard that the Potions professor is very… cranky. He's been teaching for just a few years now, but already holds a reputation. There are rumours that he is a… _Death Eater_ ," she says, darkly. "I've heard that he was in Slytherin, so he only favours Slytherins. I don't know how we'll manage to get House Points from him."

I snicker, rolling my eyes. "Jeez, Rowan. Thanks for the bustle. But I'm sure we'll survive our dreadful Potions master."

The eight hours that take for us to travel to another country seem to fly, fun and serene, with lots of laughter and conversation. When the night begins to fall upon the train, we put on our robes and wait for the train to finally stop.

"Did you know that these uniforms are enchanted?" she says. "They'll change colour when se get sorted into our houses."

"Really? That's so cool," I say. "I've always wondered how Jake's robes got the blue details. I've always thought Mum had done it…"

She winks, joyfully. "Magic can be hidden where you least expect it."

When the train finally stops, we grab all our things and proceed to leave. The corridor gets quickly crowded with new students, boys and girls with Prefect badges and older students that seem eager to begin their last year in school. When we manage to exit the train, the first thing we spot is the biggest man I've ever seen in my life. He seems to be more than eight feet tall, bearing tangled black hair and beard, and small black eyes that resemble beetles.

"Welcome, students. First-year students, please, leave all yer stuff. They'll be sent to yer dorms. Now, follow me to the boats," the man says with a deep yet sweet voice.

Rowan hooks her arm in mine, looking super excited and hopping like a bunny. We walk down a short pathway, reaching a set of woken boats that are beautifully floating atop the crystalline surface of a huge lake. The water is so dark that it reflects the moon and the starts above us.

"This is the Black Lake," the man says. "Please, dunnot fall in it. The Giant Squid won't like it."

He giggles, and his laughter is like a thunder. Rowan looks at me with wide eyes, bearing a waterfall of excitement. Though the way is nice and calm, Rowan's trembling body makes me aware of what might be waiting for me.

When the boats get to the other side, I can't feel my arm, because Rowan kept holding it very hard, squishing it like a marshmallow. The boats take us to a little pier with a staircase that leads to the most incredible castle I've ever seen. In the top of the staircase is a forty-something woman with jet black hair in a tight bun on her nape. Her robes are of a midnight blue and her pointy hat is perfectly black. The look on her face is austere and rather intimidating.

"Thank you, Hagrid, for bringing them safely," she says.

"It was a pleasure," the giant says with a bow, leaving us alone with the imposing woman before us.

"Good night, students", she says, opening a soft smile. "I am Professor McGonagall. The start of the term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, you house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points, and any rule-breaking will lose you points. At the end of the school year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup. The Sorting Ceremony will begin in a few moments, so please, wait here."

Rowan looks at me with an excited smile. "What house do you think you'll be selected to?"

"I don't know," I confess. "I think it would be nice to be in Ravenclaw. You know, like our grandfathers."

"And like your bro-" she is interrupted by the noble figure of Professor McGonagall, that bears a subtle smile upon her thin lips.

"We are ready for you. Follow me, please."

Rowan hooks her arm in mine once more, so hard that I can almost feel her heartbeat. I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath before following Professor McGonagall along with the other first-year students. I notice they are all looking at each other with wide, scared eyes, with no idea of what's waiting for us across the door.

Once the door opens, I am mesmerized by something more outstanding than all the stories that my parents, grandparents and my brother told. None of their words can supress my astonishment when I finally enter the Great Hall.

There are flags with Hogwarts's coat of armour on every wall. A magical starry sky glistens above our heads. Hundreds of floating candles hover above four long tables that are full of students divided according to their houses. We walk together in between the tables of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, as lots of eyes look at us with curiosity, and we head to the long table where are the teachers are waiting for us.

I can already spot Professor Dumbledore, with his long white hair and even longer white beard, wearing a pointy hat and velvety burgundy robes. The spot on his right side is empty, so I assume it belongs to McGonagall.

She brings a small wooden stool and places it in front of the teachers' table, in a way that's visible for everyone in the room. Rowan looks at me with apprehension as Professor McGonagall places a very old hat over the stool. It looks much older and shredded than the one from Grandpa's stories.

"When I call your names, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she says, unrolling a long scroll of parchment.

Rowan's arm hooked in mine gets tighter by the second. If she doesn't leg go soon, I'll begin the school term with an amputated limb. And considering that it's my right arm, I don't know how I'd manage a wand with my clumsy left hand.

"Adaline Allen," Professor McGonagall calls and I watch a short girl with ebony skin and curly voluminous hair walk straight to the stool. The hat is placed upon her head and we all wait for the hat's response.

A minute goes by and the tension starts to build inside of me. I look at Rowan and she looks back at me, beating all sorts of nervousness.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat finally announces.

A sudden ovation makes my heart race. Ravenclaw's table is pure hysteria when the girl called Adaline rushes to join them. I watch her sit with a big smile upon her full lips while receiving taps on the shoulders and shaking her colleagues' hands.

I swallow hard, feeling my palms getting all sweaty.

 _Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God._

I wonder if they're going to welcome me in happy applauses too. I'm sure that everyone knows who my brother is, but the question is if they're going to judge me by Jake's mistakes. This single thought makes my guts twist and for a moment I think that I'm going to vomit.

A bunch of names are called before mine. Addison Butler becomes another Ravenclaw… Ben Copper is sorted into Gryffindor. Penny Haywood becomes a Hufflepuff… then there's Logan Johnson… and then Rowan's name is called.

She looks at me, half excited and half terrified. I watch her walk to the stool with wide eyes and she bites her bottom lip when the hat touches her long black hair.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat yells after just a few seconds.

Rowan's smile looks like a half moon – all big and bright – as she hops towards Ravenclaw's table to join Adaline and her fellow Ravenclaws. She flashes me a reassuring smile and I close my hands into fists, praying that everything goes okay.

Two boys with surnames beginning with L are sorted. My heart beats faster with every kid that is sorted, till the point that my hands are so sweaty that I have to wipe them in my robes.

"Athena Lockhart," Professor McGonagall calls and my heart suddenly stops.

I don't have the courage to look around. I can already feel the judgemental eyes that come from every corner of the Great Hall. I don't want to acknowledge them. I just want to study, become a wise witch and run away from trouble.

" _Lockhart? Like the guy that was expelled for breaking all the school rules?"_ I hear someone whispering.

" _Yeah, she's Jacob's sister. Probably just as mad as her brother_ ," someone else replies.

" _Is she related to Gilderoy? Do you think she could get me his address?_ "

I walk to the stool, trying my best to ignore the murmurs. Professor McGonagall looks at me with a frown, making me wonder if she's thinking that I'll become a troublemaker too.

 _Oh, Jake… Why did you have to go looking for the Cursed Vaults?_

She puts the raggedy hat over my head, and I wait, staring at the wall on the other side of the room. I don't want to see the faces that are staring at me, longing for my first mistake.

A deep voice comes from within the hat, making my whole body stiffen. "Oh, I see your conflicts, Athena Lockhart," the hat says in a smooth voice. "Afraid people will judge you by your brother's mistakes. Desperate for true, loyal friends. Helplessly seeking knowledge and wisdom. Your inner demons remind me of an outstanding witch I had the pleasure of knowing. You have the bravery of a true Gryffindor… the sensibility of a Hufflepuff… the ambition of Slytherins… However, I do think you'd be better in RAVENCLAW!"

I sigh in relieve, happy to be in the same house as my brother, but the sound of sparse applauses makes me lift my face to look at my house's table. My housemates who were sorted just before me start to applaud, but when they see the reprehension upon every other face, the stop. Only Rowan continues standing, clapping like there's no tomorrow, ignoring the silence coming from my fellow Ravenclaws.

I confess I'm not surprised at all.

I join her, looking at her with a sad smile, but her hand on my shoulder is enough to make me feel better. Despite everything, I have Rowan and I have Twilight. I don't need people to like me or judgemental colleagues to aren't even bothering to know me.

Another twenty-two students are sorted before the ceremony ends. Ravenclaw alone got fourteen new members: twelve girls and two boys, who are staring desperate at each other, probably wondering how they're going to function with so many girls. One of them I remember to be called James Lee; a sweet-looking Asian boy which was sorted just before me.

A ticking sound coming from Professor McGonagall gently tapping a fork against her crystal glass makes all heads turn to the teachers' table. I notice a short man sitting next to her, apparently sitting on a pile of books. He has messy brown hair and a long beard, but his eyes emanate nothing but kindness.

"That's Filius Flitwick, if you're wondering," Rowan tells me. "He's the head of Ravenclaw house and Charms teacher."

I smile, hoping that Professor Flitwick doesn't judge me by what Jake did. I'll do my best to succeed in Charms and in every single subject. I won't let anything stand in the way of me becoming a great witch. I want to make Mum, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma and even Jake – wherever he is – proud of me.

Professor Dumbledore stands up and opens his arms as if he's calling us for a hug. "Welcome, welcome," he says, and his voice is very much like my grandfather's. "Another year of witchcraft and wizardry lies ahead! It is my obligation to inform the new students and remember the old ones that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden to all students."

He looks at the Slytherin table. It's too soon to tell, but I assume that they're not very fond of following the rules. A lot of them simply roll their eyes, but some actually snicker in response.

"Our world is now at peace now that Lord Voldemort is gone" I see a bunch of students frowning with the sound of You-Know-Who's name. "The cause of his defeat was young Harry Potter, the son of the famous Aurors, James and Lily Potter."

I spot a young man at the teachers' table - sitting between a heart-shaped face woman that has spiky silver hair and a dark-haired woman whose hair falls down her waist -, looking rather distressed after hearing Professor Dumbledore's words. He is tall, pale, has a hooked nose and very black eyes. His smooth jet-black hair frames his severe looking face, almost touching his shoulders. Through the veil of anger, he's quite a handsome man, probably in his early twenties.

" _That's_ the teacher I was telling you about," Rowan murmurs. "The Potions one. _The Death-Eater one_."

I study him carefully. If I were to judge him only by his looks, I'd say that he looks like someone that could be a Death Eater. He seems to hold a lot of darkness inside for such young age. I wonder if I'll be able to succeed in his subject if I manage to trespass the curtain of shadows that seem to surround him.

As if he notices my stare, I find his eyes staring straight at me. There's an indistinct frown upon his face, but I try my best to sustain his black eyes. He looks at me with such intensity that I feel as if he's reading my mind.

"In a few years young Harry is sure to join us, but until then, I hope we enjoy ourselves in these times of peace," Professor Dumbledore continues, making me breath the eye contact with the dark Potions teacher. "Now, let's delight ourselves in this incredible feast!"

My eyes widen when a bunch of food magically appears in front of me. The table is covered by roasted potatoes, buttered vegetables, pork and chicken wings, mince pies and corn. My mouth starts to water and before I have the time to put something on my place, Rowan already has her mouth stuffed with mashed potatoes.

"Pumpkin juice, Athie?" she offers me, her mouth full.

I snicker. "No, thanks. I'm not very fond of pumpkin juice."

"That's okay," she says, swallowing her food. "I believe there are about then different types of juice for you to choose from."

And that is no joke. I can see sweaty jars of ice-cold orange juice, red jars of sweet strawberry juice that seem to fill themselves when they reach the half, and even a very intriguing jar of something that is half bright-blue and half purple.

Our table is noisy with conversations about all kinds of topics. The Prefects are talking about how excited they are to wear the badge, while the Head Boy and Girl are explaining them everything about their duties. The first-years, on the other hand, seem to be very quiet. Rowan, of course, has the cure for it.

"My parents own a tree farm that provides the wood for wand makers," she says out loud. "Mine is mahogany. What's your made of?" she asks a girl with long and straight red hair.

The girl looks at Rowan with wide brown eyes. I think it's not everyday that you meet a chatty Indian girl that can't seem to shut up. I smile, feeling thankful for Rowan's chattering.

"Hmm…" the girl says. "Mine is made of mulberry tree. It has a funny smell."

"Mine too," I say, engaging the conversation. "Mine is cinnamon."

"I've heard that cinnamon wands are good for sensible people," the boy named James Lee says. "I'm James, by the way."

"Athena Lockhart," I introduce myself.

"And I'm Rowan Khanna," Rowan says with a smile. "What's your name?"

The redhead girl blinks a few times before answering. "Tulip Karasu."

"Karasu? Well, that's a very interesting surname," Rowan says.

"It's Turkish," Tulip explains.

As the dinner goes on, with meaningless conversations about wands and origins, I get to meet my fellow Ravenclaws. The older ones are still not addressing me the word, but it doesn't matter, because now James, Tulip, Addison, Piper and a lot of other first-years whose names I'm still to memorize seem to be looking at me with friendly eyes. The barrier between us seem to be broken and, perhaps, we'll all become good friends.

I give one last glance at my dark Potions professor.

 _How am I supposed to break_ your _barrier?_

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading! Be sure to leave a review and/or a private message so I can know your opinion.

* The Sorting Hat Song, by GotnelFHD on Youtube.


	3. Year 1: Chapter 3 - Mushrooms

**A/N: _This chapter has been rewritten._**

* * *

 **Chapter Three – Mushrooms**

 _I'm not your average type of girl_

 _I'm gonna show the world the strength in me that sometimes they can't see_

 _I'm about to switch my style and soon things may get wild_

 _But I'll prove that I can conquer anything*_

* * *

I've been living with my grandparents for the past few months, while Mum and Dad are wandering around the world, hopelessly trying to find Jake. During these past months, I've grown specially attached to my grandfather. Not that I'm not close to Grandma. I specially enjoy helping her with her potions and baking things with her, but I feel that Grandpa is more opened. He's always ready to share a piece of wisdom, to teach me now things and, above all, to offer me intellectual challenges. I guess that's what I like the most.

One of our favourite things – that became sort of a matinal tradition – is riddles. Every morning he'd come up with a different one; he said that I could only eat after I had solved it. It was our private joke and I loved every second of it. I don't remember every getting one wrong, because every time I answered, he'd open a big proud smile and hand me my breakfast.

Those memories fly back at me instantly, as soon as I step foot in front of Ravenclaw Tower. After dinner, we are guided through dark corridors and infinite staircases, until we reach a beautifully intricate door, made of solid wood, with a bronze eagle head right in the middle, that stares severely at us. The details are so perfect that one could swear that it is alive.

"The door is enchanted," one of our Prefects, a girl named Samantha Phillips, tells us. "It you tell you a riddle. If you get it right, it will allow your passage. If not, it will remain locked."

Rowan looks at me with excitement. "I love riddles."

We wait in front of the door and the eagle begins to move. It just looks around at first, as if it is acknowledging us all. Then it opens its beak and speaks with a dulcet toned voice. "Only those of quick wit and mind are permitted to enter Ravenclaw Tower. If you wish to join your peers, you must prove yourself by answering the following riddle."

I smile, understanding why Grandpa began the riddle tradition with me. He was, above all, preparing me. It makes me feel closer to him and I want to do my best to make him proud.

"What is a room no one can enter?" the eagle asks, smoothly.

Rowan frowns, but I giggle. I think about it for a moment.

 _A room no one can enter…_

From what I've come to learn with Grandpa, the answer would probably contain the word _room_. I cross words in my head, trying to find one that could make sense.

 _Bedroom… bathroom… classroom… ballroom…_

"A mushroom," I answer, anxiously.

"Correct," the eagle says, and the door opens, allowing us to enter.

"Way to go, Athie!" Rowan says, looking at me with a big smile.

Our other Prefect, a boy named Chester Davies, flashes me an impressed glance. My smile broadens as we enter our common room.

It is a gorgeous, wide and airy circular room, with a breath-taking view of the mountains. The domed ceiling is painted with thousands of flickering stars. There's a concave bookcase in one corner, protected by two tall pillars with bronzy eagles on top. Right between them, like a guardian to all knowledge, is an amazing marble statue of fair Rowena Ravenclaw. I walk to her, astonished. She looks so realistic that it seems to be looking at me.

"See that tiara on her head?" Rowan says, standing next to me. "It's her lost diadem. It's said that it had the power to bring great knowledge to whoever wore it. That's why her daughter Helena stole it. She was trying to be more intelligent than her mother."

I smile at Rowan. She's like a walking encyclopaedia.

"Helena's ghost is Ravenclaw's ghost now," she tells me. "But most people call her The Grey Lady. I read that she-"

"Athena Lockhart," I turn around and see an older boy, tall and blonde with sun-kissed skin. "I can't believe you were accepted after your retarded brother was expelled and ruined Ravenclaw's reputation."

My jaw drops. I'm no idea who this boy is, but he has already presented himself as a very disrespectful and unpleasant person. I cross my arms, defensively, trying not to show hesitance just because I'm younger, unexperienced and way shorter than him.

"I didn't choose to be in Ravenclaw," I say, firmly.

"We certainly didn't want you here," he says with disgust.

"Cut it out, Levi," Chester interrupts, putting a solemn hand over Levi's shoulder. "She got the riddle correctly. She belongs in Ravenclaw."

"Just because she got one riddle right doesn't mean she's suited for this house."

"And just because you're stupidly self-righteous doesn't mean _you_ belong in here," Chester says with a firm tone.

Levi flashes me a disgustful stare and walks away, heading to the boy's dormitory. I sigh, and Rowan lands her hand softly on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Athie. I wanted to do something about it, but you told me not to do anything…"

"It's okay, Row. I think if I just ignore it, people won't bother me about my brother," I say, sadly. "And thank you, Chester."

"That's okay, Athena," he says. "Just stay out of trouble."

I sigh, hoping that I will, in fact, stay out of trouble. It bothers me that Levi was so prompt to just hate me without getting to know me. Even though I deeply love my brother, I am not him. People, however, don't seem to care. They see me, they learn my surname and they think they've got it all.

But they don't.

They never will.

As the students return to the common room and slowly disperse to their dorms, I take my time to absorb my surroundings. There are a lot of wooden desks, sofas and bookcases around the room. In the very middle is a spiral staircase that, according to our prefects, leads to the dormitories downstairs. I follow Rowan, only to find two simple doors, one in front of the other in a simple circular hall.

"It's a spell," she tells me. "You can only enter the bedroom designed to your specific school year."

"You know everything!" I say, impressed.

She smiles at me and opens the wooden door. We step into an amazingly huge circular bedroom, a lot larger than it looks from the outside. It has a dark blue paint covering the walls and the ceiling, all dotted with tiny bronzy stars. The large windows are covered by dense velvety midnight blue curtains, bearing golden fringes and tassels. The floor is carpeted, blue and soft, making our feet sink in when we walk. Twelve canopy beds surround the room and in the very middle is a circular rug bearing Ravenclaw's eagle.

Rowan find her bed – all her belongings placed right next to it, - and, thankfully, mine is the one next to her. Every pillow is wrapped by baby blue cases and the heavy covers are of an intense sky blue. The curtains that surround the canopy are of a beautiful Prussian blue, just like the candle holders over the dressers.

"Thank goodness I like blue," I say, sitting on my bed.

A soft hoot makes my eyes fly to the window, where I spot a Great Hornet Owl, rested softly upon the sill. I walk to my magnificent friend, gently rubbing his smooth feathers. He looks at me with bright yellow eyes and I smile.

"Did you make friends at the Owlery yet?" I ask.

"The Owlery is really close to this tower," Rowan says, spotting through the window. "Did you have the chance to look at your schedule yet?"

"Yes," I say. "Herbology with Professor Sprout… Transfiguration with McGonagall…"

"What are you most looking forward to?" she asks.

"Potions, I guess."

"Well, Potions is only at ten twenty," she says, grabbing her schedule from her nightstand. "Oh, _tatti_! Transfiguration is only in the late afternoon! That's a bummer…"

"Rowan, what does _tatti_ mean, exactly?" I ask, curiously.

"Well," she says, looking rather embarrassed. "I'm not actually supposed to say it. It's an ugly Hindi word."

I smile, rolling my eyes at her adorable weirdness. She grabs her pyjamas and I mimic her, still not quite sure of how I should proceed. There's another door in the dorm, this one being white. She enters and the door immediately closes behind her. I reach for the knob, a frown upon my face, but when I try to open the door, I notice it is unlocked.

"Rowan, why did you hit the do-"

The bathroom in front of me is spacious, all in tones of blue, purple and silver. There are ageratums in beautiful vases and a fluffy rug in front of the sink. Rowan, however, is nowhere to be seen.

"This is strange…" I say to myself, proceeding to put on my pyjamas and brush my teeth. When I return to the dorm, Rowan is already there. "Is the bathroom enchanted too?"

"It is!" she exclaims, happily. "Isn't it marvellous?"

She crawls underneath the heavy covers and rests her head on the fluffy pillow. The time that takes for me to tuck myself in is enough for Rowan to fall asleep. Her face bears a satisfied smile and by her flickering lids, I can tell she's already dreaming.

I stare at the smooth fabric that covers the canopy and allow my lids to grow heavy. In the darkness behind them, I think of how glad I am to be in the same house as Grandpa and Jake. My brother's face arises in the darkness, like a faded smoke, and his smile helps me fall into the sweetness of unconsciousness.

The nightmares begin to haunt me the moment I fall asleep. The coldness and the heaviness on my heart return, ready to drown me in despair. I see myself standing in Jake's bedroom and every single one of his things are there: the Polaroid of us at the beach, his glasses rested upon his Arithmancy book… I can see his guitar lying on his bed, the radio over his desk and the big red jukebox next to his wardrobe. Since Dad is Muggleborn, seems reasonable that we'd have plenty of Muggle objects.

There's a stack of books upon his desk, neatly organized. The top one is his Standard Book of Spells, seeming new and untouched. I run my fingers over the cover, feeling the texture of the engraved words, when a freezing sensation paralyzes me. My whole hand becomes instantly cold and my eyes widen when I notice that my fingers, once pale, but warm, slowly begin to become ice. The book under my hand starts to freeze too, until it becomes a solid block of ice. Though I want to scream and step away, I can't. My whole body is stuck, as if it is petrified. The ice spreads to my wrist and before I can realize, I'm suffocating in an immensity of ice.

I wake up startled, sitting up with my heart pounding desperately inside my chest. My whole body is awfully cold and though I grasp at the covers, trying to find some heat, I can only find more chills. My eyes scan the room, realizing we're still in the dead of the night. All my colleagues are deeply asleep and none of them seems to be bothered by the cold. Rowan even has one foot sneaking out of the covers, as if greeting the night air. I lie down, pulling the covers over my head, leaving only my nose and eyes exposed. Little by little I begin to feel warm again and even though it takes a while for me to fall asleep again, when I finally sleep, the rest of the night is made of dreamless lullabies.

* * *

The end of summer brings a chilly breeze that enters unannouncedly through the windows. I wake up with the first rays of sunshine and wait under the covers for Rowan to wake up too. I don't want to admit to myself that I'm nervous, though this is probably why I'm feeling so restless. It wouldn't normally bother me that a kid like Levi doesn't like me, but it's is the whole reason behind it that truly bothers me.

When Rowan finally wakes up, before everyone else, I feel comfortable enough to get up and take a shower. The warmth of the water makes me feel better and the whole process of dressing my Ravenclaw uniform is the confirmation that all of this is real. I fix my tie, placing it under my sweater, and put on the black robes. Just like Rowan said, the interior of the hood is now blue, just like my tie – all striped in blue and bronze – and the embraided Ravenclaw symbol on my chest.

I brush my long hair in front of the mirror, trying to portray my best proud and confident expression, and place the black pointy hat on my head, adjusting the wide brim so it looks nice and neat. I straighten inexistent wrinkles on my clothes and check if I have everything I need in my bag. I brought my mom's old satchel bag. It is made of a very old leather, soft and of a beautiful caramel colour. The inside still has her name engraved in a beautiful golden ink: _Annette Lockhart._

It is a tradition in my family – well, on my mother's side, at least – that every girl must possess a name starting with the letter A. I'm Athena, Mum is Annette, my stuck-up Aunt is Anise – like the plant -, my grandma is Agatha, and so on. Sounds like a silly tradition and I'm no idea of who even started it, but I feel glad that my parents picked a strong and interesting name for me. I get the chills when I think of my other female relatives' names and feel thankful for not having their extremely eccentric names.

I walk with Rowan through long hallways and staircases until we, along with hundreds of students, reach the gorgeous Great Hall. I sit between Rowan and Tulip, already spotting a bunch of things that I like to eat. I'm immediately drawn to a pile of golden waffles, that look just like the ones Grandma makes. Along with some black tea, the morning is sweet and peaceful.

Rowan is stuffing her mouth with a blueberry muffin when we spot a bunch of owls entering the room. They all start to drop letters and packages, and I'm surprised when Twilight drops a small box in front of me. He finds a resting place between Rowan and I and proceeds to stare intensively at all the oats on top of her muffin. She looks at him with a frown and then sighs, starting to patiently remove a few oats to give him, almost as an offering.

I giggle, opening the beautifully wrapped box. Inside there's a gorgeous velvety box and when I open the lid, my eyes widen to the sight of the most beautiful wristwatch I have ever seen. Next to it, is a small message.

" _The prettiest Ravenclaw cannot be late for class! I'm so proud of you! Love, Grandpa,_ " I read softly, a smile rising on my lips.

I put on the watch, promising myself that I'll send him a letter as soon as I can. I stare at the shiny bronzy bracelet, mesmerized at the bronze hands and numbers and the beautiful star-stone background that looks like starts in the night sky. It promptly warns me that it's eight fifty and that my first class will still take a while to arrive. With time to spare, Rowan and I decide to learn the path to the nearest classrooms.

The bulletin board in the hallway is already full of fliers. Someone named Lucy Williams has already lost her Charms book, a guy names Andrew Clark is offering private Astronomy lessons, the Quidditch teams' trials are in three weeks and Professor Flitwick is looking for new members to the Frog Choir.

"That's something I could try," I tell Rowan.

"What? Singing?" she asks. "Can you sing? Can I hear it?"

I shrug. "Well, at least I think I can. My brother used to play the guitar and we would sing together almost every day."

"Oh, Athie, promise me you'll sing to me sometime!" she says, excitedly.

"I promise," I say as she hooks her arm in mine as we stroll through the large hallways.

The many paintings on the walls watch as we walk around, climbing stairs and memorizing our way. A few immortalized knights and maids even greet us, whereas some just go back to sleep. The whole place smells of old stones and books and the perspective of the amount of knowledge that waits for us brings excitement to my heart.

A while later, we finally find our way back to the entrance hall, where we climb down the stairs and take the right, walking through the heavy door and dank corridor that leads to the dungeons. There's a long staircase leading downwards and the whole place is cold and humid. Since we're probably moving underground, there's no natural lights; only candles to enlighten the place. Though the outside world is very much sunny, I feel like I'm entering the land of eternal night. Everything is dark and gloomy and when we reach a ample hall, made of dark greenish stones, I spot a wooden door framed by a thick stone archway. Engraved in gold are the words _Potions Classroom._ When the rest of our classmates begin to arrive, I feel bold enough to open the door.

The interior is just as dark. There are shelves covering almost every wall and every single one is cluttered with big jars full of the most interesting ingredients, just as bizarre objects and a selection of many potion books. I sit next to Rowan in the long tables, right behind James and the other Ravenclaw boy, Sebastian Jenkins. The front of the classroom has many round tables, full of test tubes and jars, as well as a large blackboard that is cleaning itself from the instructions from the previous lesson. Next to the board is a dark desk covered by scrolls of parchment, books and a black candlestick. Right behind it is another door, with the same thick archway, but this one has the words _Potassa Carbonate_ engraved on the stone.

The heavy sound of the door being closed makes my heart race. I turn around, watching as our dark Potions teacher enters the classroom. His robes float around his ankles, lugging on the floor, and he stops in front of the blackboard, staring intensely at us. He seems taller now that he's standing, and very intimidating. The whole classroom is buried in a sepulchral silence and our professor crosses his arms, finally speaking.

"I am Professor Snape," he says and his simple introduction sounds like an order. "I shall not tolerate stupid spells or pranks in this class. I do not expect you to understand the subtle art of the preparing of potions, but I hope, nevertheless, that there is at least one of you who will be able to succeed in this class. The potion we will prepare today is extremely simple, so I will not tolerate mistakes. Who is able to tell me the properties of the Boil Cure Potion?"

Rowan opens her book, looking for the page that contains the answer, but the silence that continues to drag over us is too intense to bear. I raise my hand hesitantly, biting my bottom lip in nervousness. The professor looks at me with severity in his piercing black eyes, making me want to immediately hide my hand.

"Miss?" he says with his deep and sharp voice, looking at me with a frown.

"Lockhart, sir," I say, trying to sound determined and not scared.

"Lockhart," he repeats, crossing his hands behind his back and beginning to walk around the classroom. "Relative to Jacob Lockhart, I suppose."

I swallow hard. "Yes, sir."

"So young, but already a trouble-maker. Am I expect the same of you, Miss Lockhart?"

I stare at my hands. "No, sir."

"Then tell me, Miss Lockhart, is Gilderoy Lockhart _also_ your relative?"

I sigh. "Yes, sir."

"Am I to expect you to be as conceited as him, Miss Lockhart?"

"No, sir."

I can feel all eyes on me, like dozens of knives stabbing me mercilessly. I can't help but feel extremely uncomfortable. Rowan looks at me with "I told you so" eyes, so I simply stare at the closed book in front of me, trying my best to ignore my surroundings.

"Then tell me, Miss Lockhart, the properties of the Boil Cure Potion."

I take a deep breath before answering. There's no reason for me to feel obscured or intimidated by the intensity of his presence or the judgment in my classmates' eyes. I raise my head, staring at him fearlessly.

"The Boil Cure Potion is used, as its name suggests, to cure boils. It can cure even the ones produced by the Pimple Jinx," I answer, drying my sweaty palms on my skirt.

"Correct," he says. "And what is expected if the potion is prepared incorrectly?"

"It has been known to cause even more boils, rather than cure them."

"That is also correct," he says, eyeing me with jet-black eyes. "Now pay close attention while I _correctly_ teach you how to prepare it."

He moves to the adjacent round table while a piece of chalk directs itself to the blackboard, flawlessly writing the instructions to brew the potion. I open my book, dipping my quill in the ink, ready to take notes to make the most flawless potion ever. I try my best to exclude every sound except for Professor Snape's voice, including Rowan, that is desperately copying the instructions on her notebook. The professor explains everything in a deep dulcet voice, calmly showing us the ingredients, teaching us about the correct temperature and the proper way to stir. I take careful notes, underlining the steps he puts emphasis on. Though I have no reason to be doubtful of myself, I still want to do my best to succeed in this subject.

When we finally get to put our hands in the process of potion making, I notice that there's a very strange girl staring at me, almost with anger. Her hair is of a caramel colour and she has obvious dark circles around her eyes. Though I'm not sure of why she's staring at me, I can't help but wonder if she was trouble to sleep.

"If your potion is prepared correctly, it will have a blue tint to it and there will be pink smoke rising from your cauldron," Professor Snape says.

I read the instructions attentively, glancing at the blackboard and at my notes, doing specifically what the professor explained. I crush six snake fangs into a fine powder, add four measures of it to my cauldron and heat it to 250 degrees for ten seconds, waving my wand in the end. I check my watch, for I must wait for the mixture to brew for thirty-three minutes. With the time I have, I can't help but wonder who first invented this potion and how many times he or she got it wrong before figuring out the correct way to brew it.

When the time ends, my potions is of a pale lilac colour. I swallow hard, wondering if everything is going well. Professor Snape walks by my table and lift his eyebrows, saying absolutely nothing. Though I hate to admit, his presence is truly intimidating.

I grab four horned slugs from a jar and add them to the mixture. I watch them sink and when I can no longer see them, I put out the fire. The instructions say that the cauldron _must_ be out of fire before adding the next ingredient and I don't even want to think about what would happen if I skipped this step.

I add two porcupine quills and stir everything five times, clockwise. My heart keeps racing through the entire process, only relaxing when I grab two death cap mushrooms and add to the cauldron. They make me think of last night's riddle and of how fascinating mushrooms can be. These ones specifically are extremely deadly, but when correctly added to a potion, they can become medicine.

Finally, I do the precise movement that Professor Snape taught us, waving my wand to finish the potion. When I do it, a very strange smelling pink smoke rises from my cauldron and when it dissipates, my potion has a beautiful blue colour. I smile, feeling incredibly proud of myself. Professor Snape stops in front of my table, staring at me.

"Satisfied with your potion, Miss Lockhart?" he asks, serenely.

"Very much, sir," I say, taking a sample from my concoction and placing it inside a labelled flask.

When the class ends, I leave my flask on Professor Snape's desk and meet Rowan at the door, feeling my whole body stiff and tense. She hooks her arm in mine and looks at me with wide eyes.

"That was terrifying!" she exclaims. "I was so afraid of doing it all wrong!"

I sigh. "Me too."

"But you seemed so focused! How did you manage to relax with Snape watching you like a hawk?"

"He was watching me?" I ask, surprised. "Maybe he was making sure I wouldn't be a trouble-maker like my brother… or a peacock like Gil."

"Speaking of Gil…" she starts. "Your cousin is a legend around here. I heard he once sent eight hundred Valentine's Day cards to himself and the breakfast had to be cancelled. You know, because of all the owl dirt and stuff."

I roll my eyes. "Legend… Unbelievable. Gil may be handsome, but he's helpless. If our fellow Ravenclaws don't understand how I was sorted into this house, then I'll never understand how Gil got in. You should see him during our Christmas dinners, Row. He's like a shiny little peacock. And my Aunt Anise is just as helpless. She's always bragging about how perfect and wonderful he is. It just makes him fuller of himself. Like that's even possible…"

"Annoyed that Snape compared you to him?" she asks.

"Deeply," I confess.

"His class was very overwhelming."

"Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe if we're always under stress, we'll become better witches."

"Or we might explode," she says. "But don't worry. I'll clean all the pieces of your brain and guts."

I giggle. "Thanks, Row."

We have some free time before lunch, so we decide to take a walk outside and meet the castle's gardens. As soon as we leave the dungeons, we are greeted by the sunbeams that cross the stained-glass windows. We cross the heavy entrance doors, immediately feeling the sun kissing our skins. Though I'm more of a winter person, my nightmares have made me more drawn to the sun. There's not a single cloud in the sky and there's a gentle breeze flowing, making the grass and the wildflowers swing in the autumn air.

I sit with Rowan under a big sycamore tree, looking at the beautiful castle in front of us. I take a deep breath in, allowing the forestry scent to fill my lungs, making me feel happy and fulfilled. I red my hands on the grass, staring at the tiny yellow flowers growing amidst the green, when my eyes are suddenly drawn to something very odd that's growing by the tree bark.

There are a lot of inky cap mushrooms growing around the tree, looking – as the name suggests – like they're dripping ink. Though they look a little scary, I'm well-aware that they're edible and even can be used in many different potions. Impulsively, I grab a clean cloth from my bag and place a bunch of them over it, wrapping them carefully.

"What are you doing?" Rowan asks, curiously.

"I'll be right back," I say. "There's something I need to do."

I rush back to the castle, my feet taking me back to where I came from. I climb down the stone stairs, returning to the cold dungeons. The Potions classroom door is open and from the archway I can see that Professor Snape is sitting at his desk, correcting our potions.

"Professor?" I call him from the doorway and feel my heart nearly stop when he flashes me a cold dark gaze. I swallow hard, finding the courage to enter the classroom and walk to him. "I found these mushrooms growing under a sycamore. They can be used in many, many potions and-"

"I know what they can be used for," he says, sharply.

"I know," I say. "I thought a great potions master as yourself would find them very useful. Anyway, I'm deeply sorry for disturbing you."

I head back to the door, not fully aware of why I even bothered doing this, when his voice makes me stop.

"Miss Lockhart," he says, and I turn around. "What were your true intentions by bringing me these mushrooms?"

I take a deep breath. "I want you to know what I'm not like my brother. Nor my cousin." And by saying that, I leave the classroom, feeling strangely light and relaxed.

I find my way back to the gardens, smiling when I see Rowan waving happily at me. My eyes meet the bright blue skies and I'm suddenly faced with the funniest of thoughts:

 _Perhaps, with the correct potion or spell, a mushroom can, in fact, become a room._

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading! Please, leave a review so I can know your opinion. Any comments, critiques or suggestions are welcome!

* Watch Me Shine, by Joanna Pacitti.


	4. Year 1: Chapter 4 - Blackbird

**A/N: _This chapter has been rewritten._**

* * *

 **Chapter Four – Blackbird**

 _I bet you got pushed around_

 _Somebody made you cold, but the cycle ends right now_

 _'Cause you can't lead me down that road_

 _And you don't know what you don't know*_

* * *

"Do you think that adulating Professor Snape is a good idea?" Rowan asks me as we head back to the Great Hall for lunch. "The spell might backfire."

"I know, I know," I say, sitting down and filling my plate with an herb-crusted chicken breast and plenty of mushroom sauce. "I just think that it's too unfair, you know. I've just met him and he's already assuming all these things about me."

"Yeah, that's so not okay," she says, comprehensive, stuffing her mouth with chicken curry. "Ew, I hate this."

"Then why are you eating it?" I ask, watching her grab another huge bite.

"Because it tastes like home."

After we finish eating, we walk with our classmates to our first Charms lesson. A slight dread brushes against my heart with the single thought that Professor Flitwick might be as judgmental as Professor Snape. The feeling, however, is rapidly erased when I remember his kind eyes during the Sorting Ceremony, and I realise that he probably won't judge me by my family.

The classroom is in the South Tower, in the third floor, making us climb many staircases and turn two long corridors to get there. The door is already opened and when we get in, I notice that a lot of Gryffindor students are already sitting down. The classroom is long, with wood panels covering every wall, and there are two long desks on each side. There's a long glass-stained window with a big blackboard covering the most of it, and in front of the board is a pile of thick books with our teacher standing upon them.

"He's part-goblin," Rowan whispers to me. "In case you're wondering."

"How do you know all these things?" I ask her, finding a place to sit and opening my Charms book.

She blushes. "I read… and I hear people talking."

We sit in front of all the Gryffindor students. There are three girls and eight boys and one of them specifically stands in the crowd. His face is rounded like a cherubim's, his brown hair is flawlessly brushed, and his face bears an expression of pure and complete dread.

"Good afternoon, class," Professor Flitwick says, making a gesture for the rest of the standing students to find their places. "I am Professor Flitwick and I'll be your Charms teacher. Today we are going to learn how to cast _Lumos_. Can anyone tell me what this spell is used for?"

I raise my hand, but the angel-cheeks Gryffindor also raises his. His brownish eyes meet mine and he trembles. Professor Flitwick looks at us both with a satisfied smile and then indicates the Gryffindor boy.

"The _Lumos_ spell is used to cast light, resembling sunlight, at the tip of your wand," the boy says.

"Correct," the professor says. "What is your name, Mister?"

"Ben Copper, sir," he says, his voice shaking a bit.

"Very good, Mr. Copper. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, who can tell me the counter-spell for _Lumos_?"

I raise my hand again and Ben Copper does the same. This time, his lips curl in a gentle smile.

"Now let's allow the lady to answer it," the professor says, and Ben lowers his hand.

"The counter-spell for _Lumos_ is a spell called _Nox_ ," I answer.

"Very good, Miss…"

"Athena Lockhart, sir."

"Oh, yes," he says. "If you are anything like your brother, you'll have a great performance at this class. He was one of my most skilful students. Also, one of the most rebels."

I feel Rowan's eyes eyeing me with concern, but I don't take my eyes away from Professor Flitwick.

"Are you going to follow the rules, Miss Lockhart?" he asks me, and I feel everyone staring at me again, just like in Potions class.

I clench my jaw, afraid that I'll have to endure this for the next seven years. "Yes sir. I'm not here to cause any trouble. My solely intention is to learn."

"Very well, then," he says, smiling. "Five points for Ravenclaw for the correct answer. _Nox_ is, in fact, the counter-spell for _Lumos_. Now, class, pay close attention, because I'm going to teach you how to properly cast it."

We spend the next minutes practicing the correct way to hold the wand, the proper wrist movement and how to clearly pronounce the spell. From time to time, Professor Flitwick explains some random information about the spell we're learning about. He tells us who created it, problems people had while using it and other interesting facts. Rowan's face is pure delight, because she's hearing everything she has already learned in the books.

"Now, students," the professor says. "Let's try to cast _Lumos_."

My cinnamon wand seems to tingle anxiously in my hand, almost like it is begging to be used. I want to prove my darling part-goblin professor that I'm here to be great; that I'm not problematic or a troublemaker. I take a deep breath, holding the wand gently in my hand, and make the cursive e shape to cast the spell.

" _Lumos_ ," I enounce, and my heart rejoices when a strong light rises from the tip of my wand.

"Flawless, Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says. "This was the best and strongest execution of _Lumos_ that I've ever seen a first-year student cast. Ten points for Ravenclaw!"

I open a smile, feeling my whole body relax with the relief. I watch Rowan try hard to cast the spell, successfully doing it after a few attempts. She smiles to me, happily shaking her wand to check that, unlike fire, the light doesn't fade. From the other side of the room, Ben Copper seems to have overcome his dread, because he's happily casting _Lumos_ and _Nox_ , over and over again.

When the lesson ends, I have earned twenty points for my house; five extra for helping Tulip with her wrist movement. By the time we leave the classroom, I'm feeling light and joyful, ready to face the Herbology lesson that we have ahead.

We leave the South Tower, heading to the West Wing, taking the long walk that leads to the Greenhouses. Midway, the first year Hufflepuffs join us, probably coming from a shared lesson with Slytherin. A particular Hufflepuff girl seems to stand in the crowd: she has a heart-shaped face, a small pointy nose and messy short bright-pink hair. Though she looks extremely different from her friends, her face is one of the most beautiful. It's a unique kind of beautiful, but she's pretty, nevertheless. She's talking excitedly to a girl that had luscious blonde hair, styled with two flawless braids that frame her gorgeous face. In fact, all the other Hufflepuff girls seems to be revolving around her.

When we finally reach the Greenhouse One, our teacher is already waiting for us. She's wearing long greenish robes with many moss and soil stains. Her pointy hat is also green, bearing two leaves at the very tip, and it covers most of her bushy curly brown hair. She looks at us with a kind smile and introduces herself as Professor Sprout. We follow her to the inside of the greenhouse, and I am surprised by all the eccentric plants that are pending from the ceiling and the ones that have vines trying to open the windows. The long table is covered by many clay vases and the underneath of the table is cluttered with soil sacks. Everything smells of rain and mud.

The blackboard in the corner indicated that we're going to learn about Puffapods. Professor Sprout finds her place in front of a funny looking plant, with a bark that looks very dry and large pink seedpods pending from the leafless branches.

"This is a Puffapod," she tells us. "It's an extremely useful magical plant. Do you see these big seedpods? They are full of shiny beans that will instantly flower when they meet any solid objects. Today you'll learn how to properly deseed them. I must advise you, however, to not let these seeds fall."

The pink-haired girl seems completely absentminded of what Professor Sprout is telling us, for she's happily poking the pods with the tip of her wand. The professor flashes her a vexed expression, that she doesn't seem to notice.

"Before we start, can anyone tell me what the magical properties of the Puffapods are?" Professor Sprout asks.

Rowan raises her hand and is allowed to answer. "They are known to have antiallergic properties."

"Correct. Five points for Ravenclaw."

Rowan smiles excitedly. Professor Sprout makes another question, this time about the paradox of the Puffapods. Rowan raises her hand again, looking extremely anxious to answer another question. Professor Sprout nods and Rowan's shoulders finally relax.

"Though the beans are known to have antiallergic properties, Trolls are known to be allergic to them."

"Correct again!" the professor says, happily. "Five more points for Ravenclaw."

By the end of the class, Rowan is hopping excitedly, talking about the points she earned, as if I wasn't there. I let her talk, because I am excited about it too. Specially when we return to the Great Hall and spot the great hourglasses in the corner, with Ravenclaw's bottom already filled with many little sapphires. I smile, happy that I am a part of it and that my studies contributed to ten of those tiny gems.

I take another look at the flier for the Frog Choir auditions; Friday morning, at 9:10. I take a note in my calendar, with an emphasis to choose a good song to perform. Rowan gets specially excited, because it implies in my singing various songs for her during our free time walking in the gardens.

In the end of the afternoon, we head to our last lesson of the day: Transfiguration. It is also in the South Tower but located in the first floor. There are plenty of desks lined perfectly in three flawless lines and I share the desk with Rowan. She opens her book and entwines her fingers over the desk, obviously excited to learn more about magic.

The front of the classroom has two steps that lead to the wide space where the teacher's desk is located, as well as a large blackboard and an empty cage next to it. Professor McGonagall is already waiting for us, standing by her desk, looking just as austere and severe as last night, when I first met her.

"I've heard she's quite an impressive witch!" Rowan tells me, excited. "I can't wait to learn from her."

For our classmates' dismay – and Rowan's joy – our first lesson is quite boring. Professor McGonagall teaches us the whole transfiguration alphabet and some very dull formulas. There are plenty of things that can influence our spells, such as ours and the object's weight, our wand power and the intensity of our concentration. Though measuring concentration is not easy, Rowan seems to be having infinite fun with it.

What makes me happy to be sitting in this classroom is that Professor McGonagall makes no biased comments about me or my brother. She seems to be solely focused on the lesson she's presenting and doesn't spare time to put me on trial for my brother's mistakes or my cousin's lack of common sense. I don't like to be judged by just two people, when there are many great witches and wizards in my family that no one seems to remember about when judging me by my family.

Grandma, for example, was a wonderful Hufflepuff. She's extremely skilled in potions and worked for many years in a magical hospital, brewing the potions to help sick people. And my grandfather, who was an extremely clever Ravenclaw, used to work at the Ministry. My parents, who met each other in Hogwarts when they both were sorted into Gryffindor, were talented Quidditch players and helped their house win the House and Quidditch Cup almost year when they were at school. But no. No one seems to remember these things. Everyone is simply judging me by what lies in the surface.

When the lesson ends, I join my colleagues in the long walk to the Great Hall to have dinner. I feel immensely tired and hungry, which come as no surprise when I finally realize that Rowan is not among us and I didn't even notice. I return to where I came from, wondering if she's discussing transfiguration techniques with Professor McGonagall, only to find her being cornered by the same strange Slytherin girl what was staring at me in Potions.

"Admit it!" the girl says in a demanding tone, her voice sharp as a blade.

"I can't!" Rowan shrieks, sounding like a little squirrel.

"Admit that I'm the most powerful witch in the entire school!"

"It's impossible," Rowan says, trying to argue with her. "I've read about a bunch of powerful witches and you don't even make it to the list. You're less powerful than Professor McGonagall, Madam Hooch, all the seventh-year girls… You're just a first-year like me."

"I'm _nothing_ like you," the girl hisses.

Though I'm not very prone to engaging in conflicts, I'm terribly tired of being labelled and judged by what I'm not, so I might as well start being judged by what I am: a tired and hungry Ravenclaw that won't take bullies mistreating her friends. As the Sorting Hat said, I'm brave like Gryffindors, so it's about time for me to show this bravery, also using my Ravenclaw wit, so I won't be just a reckless brave.

"Leave her alone!" I say, walking firmly towards them. Rowan looks at me with frightened eyes and I look at the Slytherin girl as if she's less than a worm.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she asks, snobby.

"Athena is one of the best first-year witches. Flitwick said her _Lumos_ charm was the best he's seen in ages," Rowan vomits, probably too nervous to think straight and remember that I don't want to call attention to myself.

"Athena, huh?" the girl says with disdain. "Now I know exactly who you are. You're the Lockhart girl. Your brother lost his mind, disgraced his house, was expelled from school and has been missing ever since. Your place surely is in Ravenclaw after all."

I stuff my chest. "And who the hell are _you_?"

"I'm Merula Snyde," she says as if this is an obvious information. "I'm the best witch of all Hogwarts and, obviously, from Slytherin."

I cross my arms, annoyed by her arrogance. The rumbling in my stomach only makes me even more vexed by her cynical expression and sarcastic smirk. Though she's shorter than me, she looks at me as if she's the queen herself.

"I heard the teachers talking about you during lunch," she continues, disdainful. "I imagine you must think you're better than me. I should end your suffering before you ruin Hogwarts like your brother tried to do."

"I didn't come to Hogwarts to cause trouble," I say, firmly.

She smirks. "I bet you just can't help it."

"You said your name is Merula," I say, changing the course of our discussion. "Like the bird? That's why you're stuffing your feathers like a cocky rooster?"

Rowan giggles and Merula's eyes pierce me, sparkling in all shades of violet under the candle lights. By the angry look on her face, I'm sure she'd love to wrap her hands around my throat. I remain still, arms still crossed, staring at her with boredom.

"Lockhart," Professor Snape's voice startles me, and I turn to look at him. "I knew you would be trouble."

"Merula was bullying my friend, Professor," I tell him, seeing no problem in snitching the awful Slytherin girl standing behind me.

"Off to the Great Hall, then. And be thankful for not being sent to detention," he says coldly, walking away with his robes dancing around his ankles.

Merula looks at me with a snide smirk and goes away, leaving me alone with Rowan in the long corridor. My friend looks at me with glowing eyes and wrap her arms around me.

"Thank you, Athie," she says, embarrassed.

"Are you okay?" I ask, holding her face in between my hands.

She nods. "My first day at Hogwarts and I'm already being bullied. How nice."

"How did you get yourself in this situation?" I ask, concerned.

"I was right behind you and then I remembered I had forgotten my book in the classroom. I came back to retrieve it and just when I was running to catch up with you, Merula found me," she tells me, sadly.

"She said her name is Snyde," I mention. "Is she, by any means, daughter of the Snyde couple that was sent to Azkaban?"

"The same," she says. "Her family is all involved with the Dark Arts."

"Let's not wander around alone," I say. "Though she's still useless, Merlin knows what she'll be capable of when she gets more magical training."

"Do you think she's like her family?" Rowan asks, arching her brows in fear.

"I won't judge her by her family," I say. "I will, however, judge her by what she just did to you."

"She's very intimidating."

"Let's have dinner," I say, hooking my arm in hers. "We'll study a lot to become better than her. She won't stand a chance against us."

Rowan smiles at me while we stroll to the Great Hall, ready to fill our stomachs with delicious roast potatoes, beef, gravy and more. The uneasiness of this overwhelming first day is something that, overtime, will fall into oblivion. I'll prove everyone what a great witch I can be so that, one day, people won't associate me with recklessness, trouble and arrogance.

I sit between Rowan and Emma, a curly brown-haired girl from my year. She's talking excitedly to Nicole, a girl with orangish hair, about how Merula Snyde tried to bully Chloe, a first-year Gryffindor girl, and got kicked in the crotch. Rowan giggles amused to know what she's not the only one that Merula tried to play with.

After dinner, we return to Ravenclaw Tower, where I sit in a desk near the lit fireplace to write a letter to my grandparents. As I sit there, bewitched by the dance of the flames, I tell myself that tomorrow will be better. Each day that passes will be a day that I'll be wiser. I dip my quill in the ink and begin writing the letter. Each word is like a lullaby and by the time I'm finished, my eyes are heavy and tired. I head to the dorm to sleep, longing for some peace and rest.

But instead, all I see is ice and darkness.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks so much for reading! Please, leave a review so I can know if you have any suggestions, comments or critiques.

* Mean, by Taylor Swift.


	5. Year 1: Chapter 5 - Twenty Sapphires

**A/N: _This chapter has been rewritten._**

* * *

 **Chapter Five – Twenty Sapphires**

 _You come on with it, come on_

 _You don't fight fair_

 _That's okay, see if I care_

 _Knock me down, it's all in vain_

 _I get right back on my feet again*_

* * *

 _My darling grandparents,_

 _It's been three days since my last letter. I know it doesn't seem like much, but a lot of exciting things happened during this week. I'm writing on a Thursday, precisely at midnight; I just came back from an incredible Astronomy lesson. The common room is completely empty; Rowan already went to bed, so my sole company is the soothing presence of Rowena Ravenclaw._

 _I had two lectures of History od Magic this week. Rowan was really looking forward to it, given that our professor is a ghost. I don't remember you ever mentioning a ghost teacher, Grandpa. Was he already teaching when you and Grandma attended Hogwarts? Anyway, his lessons are very interesting, but also a little dull. His voice is so unenthusiastic that it's truly tempting to just fall asleep. However, sleeping won't bring me more knowledge, so I'm relying on very strong cups of black tea to keep myself awake._

 _Our flying lessons were incredible! Madam Hooch is a wonderful instructor and I'm already considering joining the Quidditch team someday. The first game of the season is within a month, so I'll be sure to watch it carefully in order to figure out the best position for me. Perhaps a keeper? I don't know._

 _Professor Kettleburn is our Care of Magical Creatures teacher. He has only three fingers on his left hand, because two of them were eaten by an angry Grindylow. Nevertheless, his classes are amazing. He brought a Kneazle for class and taught us all about it, making it hard to pay attention, because it was just too cute of a creature._

 _Our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is a witch names Bronwyn Shelley. Her first lesson was about gnomes and she made it very clear that she's terrified of teaching this subject. Apparently, the DADA teachers seem to only last a year in the post. It made me wonder, considering that everything is so magical and mysterious around here, if this position might be cursed. In Hogwarts, everything is possible._

 _Merula hasn't done anything to us after she bullied Rowan, but we're also trying out best to stay away from her. She seems to be often alone and to be holding a lot of grudge inside. I would like to know under which circumstances her parents were sent to prison. I'd like to know more about why she is the way that she is. Perhaps all she needs is a friend. Or not…_

 _Ravenclaw is leading the House Cup by the points! It's so rewarding to be a part of it, specially because I'm gaining a lot of points from the teachers. I guess that all the time spent studying with Rowan is showing results._

 _I miss you two so much. Mum and Dad too. How's everything in Lockhart Gardens? I can't wait to see you again for Christmas. One more time, thank you so much for the watch. Is being truly useful._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Athena._

The end of the week arrives with a sunny promise and lots of fluffy clouds in the sky. The whole landscape looks joyful and dreamful, more than perfect to fill me with confidence to perform for the Frog Choir. I've been spending the week trying to think of the best song to sing, though Rowan hasn't been very helpful. Apparently, she liked every single song I considered and even suggested that I'd sing a medley of them. In the end, we thought of a song that just made sense for everything.

There are lots of students who signed their names to audition and, to my complete shock, Merula's name was among them. I drink a nice cup of jasmine tea during breakfast, to warm my soul and prepare my throat for singing. Rowan seems to be more excited than I am, talking nonstop about how I'll be able to perform during the school's special events.

"I'll be sending you positive thoughts, Athie," she tells me as we walk to the choir room. "You will totally be amazing. You'll see. Though I totally think you should sing an AC/DC medley."

"I think they're looking for soft choir voices," I say. "Not hard rock."

"Hard rock would be so much more interesting to watch…"

There are a lot of students waiting in a line outside the choir room. I see Cressida Russell, a blonde Hufflepuff girl standing in front of the line, followed by two Gryffindors, Mila and Avery. Almost ten other students are lined behind them, and I find my place behind a Slytherin boy named Andrew. Three more students line up behind me, and just as I'm thinking that Merula might have given up, I hear her stomping towards us. She bumps against my arm intentionally, flashing me a cynical smile and not apologizing. She walks to the end of the line and crosses her arms, looking extremely conceited. I know that it must be hard for her, having her parents in Azkaban, but it's not my fault. I sigh, trying to ignore her obnoxious presence and focus on what lies ahead of me.

Professor Flitwick opens the choir door and unrolls a long parchment roll. "Cressida Russell," he calls, and I hold my breath for a while, trying to control my nervousness.

It takes around five minutes for her to leave the room, bearing a very satisfied smile upon her lips. It makes me feel a little apprehensive, and I have to tell myself that it's okay if I don't make it. I can always try again next year. It's not a big deal.

The time goes by and student after student is called, entering the room, singing whatever it is that they're singing, and then leaving. I begin to feel extremely uncomfortable, as if I'm being observed. I risk a look back only to find Merula staring at me. She doesn't even make an effort to pretend that she isn't staring. She smirks, flashing me a killer stare and then rolling her violet eyes.

"Athena Lockhart," Professor Flitwick calls, making my blood freeze. I close my hands into fists, trying to calm myself, and follow him to the room.

There are twelve students in there, looking like judges in a pageant. One of them, the oldest, has a chart on the table and is waiting with a grey quill in hand.

"Good morning, Athena. My name is Elena," she tells me. "I'm going to give you some instructions about this audition. We are usually twenty singers, but six of us graduated last year. We have six spots vacant, so if we like what you show us, you'll be able to perform with us at the Sorting Ceremonies, Halloweens, Christmases and so on."

I nod.

"You have three minutes to perform any song of your choice," she says. "What do you have prepared for us today?"

"Hmm… this was my brother's favourite song," I say, hesitant. "It's called Blackbird, by a band called The Beatles."

"I've never heard of them," she says. "Are they a wizard band?"

"Not really."

"This shall be interesting, then," she says, opening a big bright smile. "Good luck, Athena. Your time begins… now," and she turns a small hourglass, making the fine sand start to run.

I take a deep breath and swallow hard, trying to get as calm as I can be. I focus on the memories that fill my mind and my heart, of Jake and I singing together under the morning glory arbour, back in Sunderland. The sweetness of this memory is what calms my heart.

" _Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly,_ " I sing, closing my eyes to everything and everyone. " _All your life… You were only waiting for this moment to arise._ "

The song fills my entire being and I can almost hear Jake's skilled fingers strumming the strings. My lips move naturally, like the song is a part of me. Inside my head, I can hear my brother singing along.

The last notes are the prettiest, but also the saddest. They linger in my tongue like the bittersweet taste of memories and make me miss my brother like a tree missing the run.

"Way to go, Athena!" a seventh year Ravenclaw named Andy Hughes, starts to clap excitedly, standing up and whistling in approval. I open my eyes, startled, surprised by their reaction.

"Thank you, Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says with a smile. "You shall receive our owl within a week."

I bow, feeling happy and reassured, and head to the door. A pair of jet-black eyes watching me from the gap left in the unclosed door makes me stop. By the time I leave the room, I can only see a glimpse of black robes turning the corridor.

 _Strange…_

"So," Merula says when I walk by her to reach Rowan, who's patiently waiting with her back rested against the wall. "Was that song intended for me? I know I'm the greatest which in the world, but I didn't know that I was so great that people would dedicate songs for me."

I roll my eyes, questioning myself if I shouldn't have taken Rowan's advice and performed the hard rock medley. It is true that Merula's name means "blackbird", but I don't think that a person in their full mental faculties would ever dedicate a song for her. With the exception, perhaps, of a funeral march, given that she absorbs all the happiness from the places she enters, like a walking dementor.

Rowan hands me my bag and we walk together to our Care of Magical Creatures class. She begins to ask me so many questions that I feel as if I'm being interrogated.

"What song do you think Merula will perform?" she asks. "Probably a sinister one… How was it? Did you nail it? Of course you nailed it. We could totally hear the applauses. I think Flitwick left the door opened on purpose. Did you see that Snape was watching you too?"

I answer to all her questions as we continue to learn about Kneazles. Today we are learning how to properly trim their claws and though Rowan is eager to ask me more questions, her Kneazle doesn't seem eager to be handled. My Kneazle has a dark grey fur and is sleeping lazily as I trim each claw, producing a loud purring sound. Rowan's, on the other hand, is making a loud shrieking sound, as if it's being stabbed.

"Easy, funny one. Easy…" she says, trying calm him by scratching behind his ear. "I think this one is broken."

The magical creature hisses at her, hitting her arm with projected claws. She pulls her arm away a second too late, and through the ragged fabric of her robes I can see that her skin is bleeding.

"It's okay," she tells me when she notices my wide concerned eyes. "I'm used to it. A lot of trees in our farm has spikes. It happens sometimes."

We stop by the hospital after class, so she can have her wound probably treated. She kept on saying that it was unnecessary, but I insisted. Madam Pomfrey, the wonderfully kind school matron, was even sweet enough to mend the holes on her robes. We left the place with no shadow of a scar across her flawless looking cinnamon skin.

"Can we go to the library now?" she asks me. "We have a lot of essays to finish."

We head to the Great Staircase, with all the moving stairs that insist on changing, and just like a Muggle elevator, we find our way when it stops by the second floor.

"Did you know that the moving stairs were Rowena Ravenclaw's idea?" Rowan tells me as we cross the hallway that leads to the library.

"And it was a fantastic idea," I say, but then I remember our third day at Hogwarts, when the staircase took us directly to the eight floor instead of the fourth and then we had to take the regular stairs to get there. "I guess."

Our time in the library is quiet and very productive. Rowan withdraws a bunch of books from her backpack, as well as a detailed chart of every essay she must do and special topics that she needs to study. She hands me an exact copy and indicates the part that says: Potions essay – VERY IMPORTANT!"

"I know it is important," I tell her, and she smiles at me, apparently thrilled to start studying. "I don't know why, but I want him to be… you know…"

"Fond of you?" she asks without looking at me, writing nonstop about the transfiguration alphabet.

"I don't know," I say, resting my face on my hand. "Not… fond, I guess. Perhaps… proud."

She raises her head, looking at me with a frown. "Why?"

I sigh. "I don't know. It is everything. It's the fact that he judged my abilities without even knowing me. It's that fact that I want to prove that not only Slytherins are worthy of his acknowledgements. I don't know… All I know it that I love potions. I want to succeed in his classes and show him that I'm more than… than just a reckless kid."

"But you're not even reckless," she says.

"That's not what people think," I say. "You heard what they said when I was sorted. That I'll probably be a trouble-maker."

"That's why," she says, pushing the chart in my direction. "That you need to study. Prove him through your grades that you are different."

I look at her organized chart and my lips slowly curl into a smile. "You're right, Row. Of course you're right."

She winks at me and we continue to study until it's time for lunch. We return to the Great Hall – our assignments perfectly done inside our bags – and as we walk by Ravenclaw's table trying to find a place to sit, Andy Hughes flashes me a happy smile.

"You should've been that Snyde girl," I hear him telling a blonde girl that's sitting in front of him. "She sounded like a dying cat! She was so mad when she left the room that I thought she was going to go full _Crucio_ on us."

My eyes immediately look for Merula. She's sitting on the edge of the Slytherin table, with no one talking to her, just staring at her plate like it is full of worms. Her face bears a mixture of anger and disgust and I confess that I'm not sure if I feel bad for her or not. All I know is that this is not a good day for us to have Potions class together.

I watch her leave her plate nearly untouched and then stroll lonelily to the dungeons. I walk with Rowan, leaving a safe space between us and the angry Slytherin, dealing with conflicted feelings or pity and apprehension for seeing her so forlorn and friendless. She enters the classroom and sits with other Slytherins, but none of them even looks at her.

I sit with Rowan, already opening my book and trying to show as much will to learn as possible. I fix my hat over my head and cross my arms over the desk, staring concentratedly at the chalkboard. I don't even turn to see Professor Snape entering the room, carrying some strange jars that he leaves over his desk.

"Today you will learn how to properly brew the Wideye Potion," he says with severity. "Can anyone tell me what it is for?"

I raise my hand instantly, feeling extremely prepared, but when he flashes his obsidian eyes at me, I fell a strange uneasiness. An annoying voice in the back of my head keeps reminding me that he heard me singing. Another voice, even more irritating, keeps telling me that I'm not a good potioneer. I clench my jaw, trying to stand the intensity of his eyes.

"Miss Lockhart," he says with his usual deep voice.

"The Wideye Potion, also known as the Awakening Potion, prevents the user from falling asleep and can also be used to awaken someone that has been drugged or that suffered a concession," I answer, hating myself for my hesitant tone. "It is also used as an antidote for the Draught of the Living Death."

"Indeed," he says, not rewarding me whatsoever, and heading to the chalkboard. He enchants the chalk to write the instructions and turns to face us. "Now pay close attention while I teach you the necessary ingredients."

I rely on Rowan's advice and give the best of me during the lecture. I observe every single movement, write down every single step and even scratch the incorrect instructions from my book. From time to time, Rowan looks at me with an accomplice smile.

By the time we start to brew the potion, I am feeling incredibly prepared. Unfortunately, in our common pewter cauldrons, the potion takes twenty-three hours to fully brew, obliging us to return tomorrow to finish it.

I begin by adding six snake fangs and six Billywig stings to my mortar, crushing them so finely that they resemble talc. I turn around to get my measuring spoons from my bag and then I add four measures of the fine powder to my cauldron. I stir it slowly and my heart begins to desperately race when the liquid that was supposed to become light green turns to a lava-like solution, releasing a pungent smell and a thick black smoke.

"What happened?" Rowan asks, coughing.

"I don't know!" I say, exasperated, covering my nose with my sleeve. "I did everything according to the instructions!"

"Miss Lockhart," Professor Snape says, raising his wand to remove the incorrect concoction from my cauldron. It takes just a movement of his wrist for my potion to completely disappear. "You obviously added too much Billywig string to your potion. Weren't you paying attention?"

His voice is sharp like a dagger and it makes me feel absurdly small. From the corner of my eye I can see that Merula is staring at me. I look at her, only to find her smiling exultantly, happier than a child at Christmas morning. I turn to face Professor Snape, my jaw clenched, and my fists tightly closed in disbelief.

 _I can't freaking believe this._

"I did everything according to your instructions, sir," I try to argue, though I know it's hopeless.

"And how do you explain your unsuccessful potion, Miss Lockhart?" he asks, lifting his brows.

I have absolutely no proof that Merula sabotaged my potion, except for her obvious joy. It isn't wise to accuse her without evidence and doing so would only bring me more problems. I stare at my empty cauldron, wondering if I actually did my concoction wrong. What if I, indeed, added to much Billywig sting?

I did my fingernails in my palms. No. I didn't do it wrong. I made my potion with as much care as I could, and I double-checked every ingredient and every single step. It is just not possible that I made it incorrectly. However, with no proof, I can't accuse Merula.

"I don't know, sir," I say, looking down, avoiding his obvious disappointment.

"Twenty points from Ravenclaw," he says and walks away, making my jaw drop and my heart instantly freeze.

 _Twenty. Freaking. Points._

His words lack sense inside my head. I stare at him, shocked by his unfairness, and feeling as if I am the smallest being in the world.

"I will expect you here tonight after dinner," he says, looking at me with seriousness. "You will redo your potion, or you will receive a T for a grade."

Rowan looks at me with wide eyes. I don't need to read her mind to know exactly what she's thinking:

 _What will the rest of Ravenclaw say about this?_

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading! Be sure to leave a review so I can know your opinion!

* Hit Me With Your Best Shot, by Pat Benatar.


	6. Year 1: Chapter 6 - Dangerous Letters

**A/N: _This chapter has been rewritten._**

* * *

 **Chapter Six -** **Dangerous Letters**

 _And I ain't tryna mess with your self-expression_

 _But I've learned a lesson that stressin' and obsessin' 'bout somebody else is no fun_

 _And snakes and stones never broke my bones*_

* * *

"I knew you would be trouble," the boy named Levi spits as he walks past me while I stand silently next to Rowan, staring at Ravenclaw's hourglass.

The twenty that I lost were enough to drop my house straight to fourth place. My heart is filled with a terrible sensation and I stare vaguely at the glistening gems, trying to make some sense of it all. My nose stings as I fight the urge to cry and not even Rowan's reassuring arm around my shoulders is able of making me feel better.

I barely pay attention to Professor Shelley's class and for the first time since I got to this castle, I don't care. I spend the entire lesson mentally cursing Merula for being such a foul human being and cursing Professor Snape for being so unfair. I swallow my sadness, remembering that, for the briefest moment, I thought he'd, one day, be proud of me.

Rowan guides me to dinner, for I continue to walk while feeling sorry for myself. My meal is completely flavourless and eating under the angry stares of my classmates doesn't help. Slytherin's table, on the other hand, seems to be full of joy, now that they're first in the House Cup.

"Don't worry, Athie," Rowan says. "I'm sure we'll get those points back before we can say Quidditch."

Her words are what reassure me during my lonely walk back to the dungeons. Professor Snape is sitting by his desk, correcting essays and giving grades to potions, and doesn't say a thing when I enter the room and begin brewing my potion. Again.

This time, I'm more careful, even though the problematic factor isn't present. I weight all my ingredients twice, double-check everything and mix the concoction with so much care that I might as well hold it in my arms and lull it to sleep. All the time I spend brewing it, I can feel Professor Snape's piercing eyes locked on me. I ignore his stare and finish my potion, leaving it next to Rowan's to brew until the next day, and leave the room without saying a word.

Rowan is waiting for me, lying in my bed while reading a book under the soft candlelight. Everyone else is sound asleep, probably hating me in their dreams.

"You didn't have to wait for me," I whisper, lying next to her under the canopy, wearing my black silk pjs.

"How was it?" she asks me, putting down the book. "Being alone with the underworld bat."

"I ignored him completely," I tell her. "I think Merula sabotaged my potion."

"And you didn't tell Snape," she says.

"I have no proof."

"Merula herself is a proof. Did you see the black fog surrounding her? That should be enough proof."

I giggle, sadly. "It doesn't matter anymore. I just have to work harder to recover those points."

She caresses my hair, bearing a reassuring smile. In the sweetness of her presence is that I finally find some rest, falling into a night with no dreams.

* * *

Saturday morning looks just like my nightmares: dark and gloomy. There's a cold drizzle pouring from the grey sky and the wind is chilly and sharp. I roll my scarf around my neck and head to the Great Hall for breakfast with Rowan's arm hooked in mine. She hops happily next to me, talking about how she wants to spend the cold day lodged in our common room, reading.

We sit by Ravenclaw's table and I fill a bowl with cereal, ignoring Levi's obnoxious stares. Rowan reaches for a stack of pancakes and pours a bunch of syrup on top of them. My mind is so loud that I barely notice the many owls that enter the room, dropping packages and letters from above. I look for Twilight and his huge body is very distinguishable among the other birds. He flies directly to me, handing in front of my bowl and proceeding to steal some corn flakes that aren't covered in milk. The letters he was carrying are carelessly fallen between a jar of juice and a butter dish.

I open the biggest one, in a thick ivory envelope, and immediately recognize my grandfather's handwriting. Just the sight of his penmanship is enough to bring warmth to my heart.

 _Our dear little witch,_

 _We are so happy that you are enjoying your first week at Hogwarts! Though your grandmother is still complaining that you weren't sorted into Hufflepuff, she's very proud of your academic success. Professor Binns was already teaching when we attended school and though your grandma hates to admit, his lessons were already pretty boring back them. She used to sleep a lot during his lectures, so we don't blame you for feeling sleepy._

 _We fully approve that you try to join Ravenclaw's Quidditch team next year. You've always been skilful with brooms. Your grandmother was a part of her house's team too, but she quit when she broke her leg when she was it by two bludgers. And you know your parents were part of Gryffindor's team too. You'll probably find some trophies with their names on somewhere in the Trophy Room._

 _Regarding your concern on the Snyde girl, we're sending you a copy of the Daily Prophet, with the news that mention her parents. It is our advice, Athena, that you stay away from this girl. If she's anything like her parents, she's extremely dangerous._

 _Please write soon. We hope you and Twilight are okay. Send our best regards to Rowan._

 _Love,_

 _Grandpa and Grandma._

Inside the envelope is the cut off front page of the Daily Prophet, from a few weeks ago, with a big portrait of a sinister looking couple that stares at the camera with the same killer stare that I've seen in Merula's eyes.

 _ **SNYDE COUPLE SENT TO AZKABAN FOR THE MURDER OF EIGHT PEOPLE**_

 _by Glinda Morgan_

 _Azkaban has just locked two more cells, this time imprisoning the Death Eaters couple, Tristan and Madeline Snyde. The vicious couple was successfully restrained by the famous Auror, Alastor Moody, on this August 13th._

 _The charges include participation in Dark Arts cults, misuse of Dark Arts spells, use of Unforgivable Curses, association with He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named, torture, kidnapping and murder of eight people. Among their victims is the Auror Darius Whisper, two Muggleborns called Jenna Sage and Frederick Holt, the director of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts department, Ballard Cope, and four witches called Ursula Goldenberg, Kate Harrington, Amy James and Hilda Lovett._

 _The sentence was given by the Minister of Magic, Mrs. Millicent Bagnold, who decreed that the Snyde couple are to spend their lifetimes in Azkaban. Meanwhile, they wait for their trial, due to November 12th._

 _The couple has a daughter who is starting her first year at Hogwarts this September 1st. The girl is now being raised by her Aunt, the director of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Ophelia Snyde._

"I guess everything makes sense now," I murmur, taking a sip of my tea.

"What makes sense?" Rowan asks, eyeing me with curiosity.

I hand her the newspaper article and proceed to open the next letter. Her eyes seem to devour each word and I notice they widen when they reach the part about the charges. She even risks looking at Merula, who's eating pancakes too.

The letter I'm holding is small and thin and has the Hogwarts symbol marked in the green wax. I break the seal, removing a small rectangular parchment from the inside, bearing a fine penmanship.

 _Miss Athena Lockhart,_

 _We are pleased to inform that you have been accepted to the Frog Choir due to your impressive performance at the auditions. We expect your perfect attendance and our first rehearsal is booked to September 10_ _th_ _, at 9:10 in the morning._

 _Respectfully,_

 _Professor Filius Flitwick._

"Ace!" I shout, happily, hugging the letter, feeling as if Paul McCartney himself just said that I'm a good singer.

"Holy Merlin!" Rowan says, cleaning the pumpkin juice that fell all over the article she was reading. "What happened? I almost chocked."

"I got in the Frog Choir," I say, opening a big excited smile.

"Wicked!" she says. "You're going to be famous! And when I become the youngest teacher ever, I'll tell my students all about my famous friend!"

I giggle, feeling as if everything is okay again. I reach for the last letter, that isn't actually a letter, but a small folded message.

 _Miss Lockhart,_

 _If you wish to recover your house points, you are expected at the Potions Storeroom, at 10:30 today._

 _Professor Snape._

I sigh. "Damn."

"What happened?" Rowan asks, concerned.

"This," I say, handing her the message.

Her eyes scan the words and her fact twists into a frown. "Ew! Has Snape lost his marbles? He sounds like a rapist pedophile in this message. Potions Storeroom? _Really?_ "

I fold the message and put it in my pocket, glancing at the teachers' table, where Professor Snape is talking to Professor Sinistra. He doesn't acknowledge my stare, neither turns to look at me. I feel chills running down my spine, wondering what his intentions with that note might be.

"You are not considering it," Rowan says. "Are you?"

"I have to recover those points, Row," I say, staring at my cereal with a now absent appetite. "I better get going. I'm going to wait for him there."

"Athie, no! This makes no sense whatsoever. You can recover those points in any other way!"

"He won't hurt me, Row," I say. "He'll probably… Well, I don't know what he'll probably do, but I know that he won't hurt me."

"Then he just has poor social skills," she says, concerned. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, it's okay," I say. "I'll meet you in the library."

I leave the table and take my cold and lonely walk to the dungeons. Every step is a regret. I regret that I didn't tell Professor Snape about what Merula did – with or without proof - and I regret that I didn't accept Rowan's offer to accompany me – her chatty self would a wonderful company to keep my mind at ease. I climb down the stairs that lead to the dark and gloomy corners of the castle and wait patiently in front of the Potions Storeroom.

10:30 comes and goes, and I watch the minutes circle my watch until I begin to wonder if Professor Snape is actually coming or if this was all a joke. I look at the closed door and thinking that he might as well be already waiting, so I reach for the knob and open the door carefully. I lift my brows when I realize that the room is completely dark. I grab my wand from my pocket and raise it in front of me, casting _Lumos_ just in case. The last thing I'm waiting is the sight of a huge creeping plants and takes the air away from my lungs.

"Holy c-" I gasp, taking a hesitant step back, but a pair of slimy tentacles reach out rapidly and grabs me by my arms, pulling me directly to a tangle of dark roots.

I've no time to yell; the plant restrains me so strongly that I begin to lose my breath. I feel it holding my wrists tightly, beginning to hurt my skin, and I groan while trying to set myself free.

"Devil's Snare," her voice makes my heart nearly stop. "It's a deadly plant, but very sensitive to the light. If you're really better with _Lumos_ than I am, escaping should be no problem."

" _Merula!_ " I hiss, trying to set myself free from the tentacles that continue to wrap around me. "You numpty little tosser! You surely are a damn maggot!"

"Language, please," she says with disdain. "I didn't take you for a foul-mouthed, Lockhart. This is what you deserve for thinking you're better than me. Good luck in there."

She shuts the door mercilessly, leaving me alone in the dark. The enormous plant curls around my body and the pain around my wrists is so intense that I nearly drop my wand.

"That lousy twit!" I shout to the void, feeling the pressure that threatens to break my ribs. "HELP!"

I gather the last bit of air that my lungs can still hold, praying that, if my spell doesn't work, someone finds me fast.

" _LUMOS!_ "

It is instant. The dreadful plant releases a loud shriek of pure pain and starts to release its grip. I step away, aiming my wand at its many tentacles, when the door blasts open.

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Ravenclaw! Get away from that Devil's Snare! Yer scarin' it!"

I turn around. It's the same gigantic man that took us in the boats last week. Now, while standing right in front of me, he seems even taller. I rush out of the Storeroom, feeling my heart beating painfully inside my chest.

"Scaring it? Really?" I ask, massaging my sore wrists. "Thank you for finding me, Mister."

"Rubeus Hagrid," he says with his deep thunder voice. "I'm the keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Pleasure to meet yeh."

"Athena Lockhart," I say, putting the wand back in my pocket.

"Ah, yer the one everybody's been talkin' about. Maybe trouble really does run in yer family," he says with concern. "How'd yeh end up in there?"

"A Slytherin girl named Merula Snyde locked me inside," I tell him.

"She did?" he says, looking genuinely shocked. "What are yeh goin' ter do about it?"

I sigh, considering my options. I could simply rat on her to Professor Dumbledore, but again, not having proof would just make everything useless. I feel like it's Potions class all over again. Is it possible that Merula is smarter than me?

"I'll just tell my classmates to stay away from her and from other Slytherins, I guess," I say. "I've been trying to avoid her, but I think it's impossible. The best I can do is make sure that my friends are prepared."

He nods. "I'd head back to yer common room. Take some time to think, Athena," he says. "I don't want yeh doin' somethin' yeh'll regret."

He taps me gently on the shoulder; his hands are so huge that my knees bent at every tap. "Good idea," I say.

"Yeh might also want to do somethin' about yer clothes. That Devil's Snare get yeh."

I look down and my jaw instantly drops when I see my shredded overalls. It just makes me want to punch Merula even harder but hurting her would only make things worse. I just sigh in frustration and look at Rubeus and his kind eyes.

"Thank you," I say.

He smiles and I turn on my heels, leaving that awful place. Merula is wise enough, I guess, because I don't see her anywhere in my stroll to Ravenclaw Tower. However, I don't really want to see her. I don't even know what I've done to deserve such hate. The only person I want to see is Rowan, but she's probably waiting for him at the library. However, I do need to change my clothes. As I get to the eagle door, the first person I meet is Chester.

"Bloody hell, Athena!" he gasps. "What happened to you?"

I sigh. "Devil's Snare happened," I say, to tired to come up with an excuse.

"Devil's Snare? But how? What happened to your meeting with Snape?"

"How did you know about that?" I ask.

"It's my job to know everything that happens with my fellow Ravenclaws," he says, politely.

"The meeting with Professor Snape was a trap," I tell him. "Merula Snyde fakes his note and locked me in a room with Devil's Snare."

He lifts his brows. "What is it with you and this girl?"

"How am I supposed to know?" I ask. "She's a psycho."

"Do you have proof that she wrote the note?" he asks.

"No," I say, frustrated. "The same way I had no proof that she sabotaged my potion and cost me twenty points. The only proof I have is the memory of her smiling cynically at me."

He clenches his jaw, looking away with a pensive expression. His eyes return to me and he withdraws his wand. "Well, you can't go around looking like this. _Reparo._ "

A gentle breeze flows around me, and I watch as every hole in my clothes gets magically mended. I look at him with an impressed smile.

"That's much better," he says. "Now you don't look like you've been fighting the Whomping Willow."

"Thanks, Chester."

"You've had some rough days, Athena. Why don't you find something safe to do?"

"I did," I tell him. "I got into the Frog Choir."

He smiles. "You did? That's incredible."

Our conversation is interrupted when we see Rowan rushing in our direction, her face a little bit red and sweaty.

"I came… running… all the way… to the tower," she pants. "So… is Snape really… a pedophile?"

"What? No! Merula is the one who's demented."

After I didn't show up at the library and someone told her about how I look awful after leaving the dungeons, Rowan promptly rushed to our common room to check if I was okay. She takes me to the sofa before the fireplace and sits next to me, her face a mixture of concern and anger.

"Merula is a foul human being," she tells me. "Don't worry, Athie. We won't let her do this to us anymore."

When I'm calm enough to eat, she walks me to the Great Hall, where we sit with our fellow Ravenclaws. They're flabbergasted when I tell them about what happened and Chester joins the conversation, advising everyone to be careful with Slytherin.

"Not all of them are bad," he says. "But you can never be too safe."

They listen attentively to what we have to say, and I can see the shock and surprise slowly turning into fire. I risk a look at the Slytherin table, where Merula is happily eating, looking very much satisfied with herself.

 _So, she thinks that I find myself better than her. Well, I'm going to show her that I'm truly better. However, I won't play by her rules. No… I'll play it like a Ravenclaw._

I'll win the House Cup and rub it in her face.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Please, leave a review so can I know your opinion.

* You Need to Calm Down, by Taylor Swift.


	7. Year 1: Chapter 7 - Books and Bravery

**A/N:** _ **This chapter has been rewritten.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Seven -** **Books and Bravery**

 _I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter_

 _Dancing through the fire_

' _Cause I am a champion_

 _And you're gonna hear me roar*_

* * *

With the end of September comes the autumn, the gentle cold breeze, the changing of colours and the migration of monarch butterflies. It also brings the beginning of exhausting studies, because our first exams are booked to November 5th. Rowan, being the big nerdy perfectionist that she is, already made study lists, wrote a bunch of notes, grabbed all the books we're going to need – and a couple extra – and, of course, started to incessantly annoy me about how much we need to study.

We have one month and eight subjects to study for. However, as the anticipated Ravenclaws that we are, we've been studying a little bit every single day. Though Rowan thinks there's always room for improvement, I don't think there's need for us to get so overwhelmed. I know the answer to every question that she asks, all my assignments and I feel prepared for every single test.

With the exception, perhaps, of Potions.

I don't truly think that Merula will try to sabotage me during the exams, mainly because I don't think she'd commit the same mistake twice. It would only make me even more aware that she lacks creativity. What I'm truly dreading is Professor Snape. Though I told myself not to feel intimidated by him, I can't help but feel a piercing sensation every time our eyes cross in class. Also, though he wasn't the one who sent the note that led me to the Devil's Snare, it scares me that there are creatures like that living in the dungeons, so close to his classroom.

Rowan keeps telling me to ignore these feelings, but something inside of me simply can't do it. I still want to do my best to show him that I'm smart, capable and a good student. It bothers me that I want to impress him so badly and it bothers me even more that I don't know the reason behind it.

Merula's been quiet since she last tried to kill me, but I must admit that I've been trying hard to avoid her. I've been studying and performing great in class and working hard to recover the points I lost because of her. Ravenclaw is still behind Slytherin, but only by five points. Though can feel her stares all over me in every class we have together, I just ignore her. To me, she's as insignificant as a dead worm.

As October brings a beautiful sunny Friday, I sit with Rowan in the Courtyard after our Care of Magical Creatures lesson, happily enjoying the morning next to her. The day is cold, but nothing that a scarf, a beanie and a pair of gloves didn't solve. We sit by the fountain, talking while watching the clouds move lazily in the sky.

"Did you have the chance to talk to that Copper boy?" she asks me, grabbing a cookie from her pocket.

"Where did you get this?" I ask.

"I hid it in my pocket during breakfast," she says, blushing. "I'm always super hungry after Kettleburn's lessons."

I snicker. "No, I didn't have the chance to properly know Ben. Why?"

"People are talking," she tells me, nibbling her chocolate cookie. "They say that he's the most coward boy in our year. I've heard that he's even afraid of his own shadow."

"I'm sure it's all gibberish," I say. "Ben is really intelligent. Have you seen him in Charms? He's really good at it."

"Thanks, Athena," the suddenness of his voice right next to me makes me almost fall into the fountain.

"Ben!" I gasp, straightening my back. "You were listening to our conversation?"

"Sorry," he says, flushing. "I couldn't help it. Thanks for defending me, though."

"I only said the bare truth, Ben," I say.

I smile at him and he sits next to me by the fountain. His red and gold scarf wrapped around his neck makes his face looks even rounder. Rowan flashes him an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry for the things I was saying," she says.

"It's okay," he says. "It's the truth. I'm truly afraid of everything."

"That's impossible," I say. "You're a Gryffindor, after all."

"I was placed in the wrong house," he says, frustrated. "That's the only explanation there can be. I don't know why the Sorting Hat placed me in Gryffindor. I'm not brave at all."

"I'm sure there's bravery inside of you, Ben," I say. "In the right moment, I'm sure you'll be stronger than your fears."

He smiles, looking slightly more confident. He remains there with us, talking about random things, until we get up to return to the Great Hall for lunch. Ben has a rosy colour to his cheeks because of the sun and I'm feeling nice and warm. As we walk to the door, talking about our favourite candies, Rowan is propelled forward, falling heavily to the floor.

" _Flipendo!_ " a familiar voice shouts from behind us and I watch Ben being pushed by an intense white light, falling next to Rowan.

I turn around, my fists closed and my eyes on fire. "Merula! What do you think you're doing?"

"Proving that I'm better than you, Lockhart," she says, disdainful. "Now grab your wand and duel me!"

"I won't duel you, Merula," I say, firmly. "I have better things to do."

" _Flipendo!_ " she casts, hitting me straight in the chest. I fall back, between Rowan and Ben, my heart burning with rage.

I watch her enter the castle, bearing a devilish smile and a cocky expression. Though I feel like punching her nose, I won't play by her rules.

"I hate that girl," Ben says, getting up and offering his hands to us.

"We all do," I say, standing up and rubbing the dirt from my robes.

"You should do something about it," he says.

"Me?" I gasp. "Why?"

"Everyone says you're brilliant, Athena."

I frown. "Really?"

He smiles. "Of course! McGonagall says you're one of her best students. I'm sure you could end Merula with your eyes closed."

I look back, at the closed door that she just crossed, feeling my cheeks burning in a mixture of anger and shyness. I don't think I'll never understand what I did to deserve having her bothering me, but maybe Ben is right. Maybe it's time to do something about it. In a true Ravenclaw way, of course, which means I won't do anything out of whim. I'll show her that smartness isn't just stabbing people's back.

 _She'll see…_

* * *

After lunch, I walk with Rowan to the dungeons to prepare the most difficult potion we've done so far. It has a lot of intricate steps to follow, making us have to double the concentration to do it correctly.

Salamander blood and the potion turns red. Stir it and it becomes orange. More salamander blood, it turns yellow. Stir a little more, it gets green. I find Potions a fascinating subject. The changing of colours… the bewitching fumes… I won't let Merula ruin this for me.

I add more blood and the potions turn turquoise. I heat it and it becomes indigo. More blood, it gets pinks. So it goes, by adding more ingredients, stirring and heating, until I'm left with a bright turquoise potions that I allow to cool down before putting it in a flask.

Professor Snape avoids me during the entire lesson, leaving me to wonder if he knows what happened in his Storeroom. People say that news travel fast in Hogwarts, but he doesn't seem aware of them. Maybe he's just pretending, but that's something I'll never know. Also, I wonder if that awful plant ended up destroying all his personal ingredient. So many unanswered questions…

After class is over, we head to the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, where Professor Shelley trembles every time she talks about ghosts. She seems to be getting more anxious every day that passes, dropping her wand when teaching us spells and looking around while teaching us about imps. Her eyes even widen when Rowan asks her about how to heal imp bites, but she simply tells us to ask Madam Pomfrey about it. Rowan looks at me and shrugs, making a note to research about it in the library.

We have dinner afterwards – turkey, fries and peas – and return to our common room. When we get there, I see Chester talking to Professor Flitwick, both standing near Rowena's statue. They look at us and open big smiles.

"Athena!" Chester calls, making a sign for me to get nearer. "At last you're here. We need to talk."

"Am I in trouble?" I ask.

They snicker. "No, no, Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says. "Mr. Davies was telling me about Miss Snyde's attack on you and your friends this morning."

"How did you know that?" I ask, looking at Chester.

"I told you, Athena," he says. "It's my job to know what happens to my fellow housemates. Anyway, Professor Flitwick has a proposition for you."

"Listen, Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says. "It won't be the last time that Miss Snyde will challenge you to a duel. Though it's against the rules do engage in duels inside the castle, I believe it's necessary that we teach you how to defend yourself."

I frown. "Are you literally telling me to break the rules?"

"In a certain way, yes," he says, smiling. "We all know that Professor Snape won't punish Miss Snyde, because she's in Slytherin. That's why I believe it's time for some rule breaking. I brought you some books on duelling and Mr. Davies will teach you how to properly duel."

"Really?"

Chester nods. "But this is only for you to defend yourself, okay? So, don't wander around looking for trouble."

I take all the books with me to bed. I devour the first one before falling asleep; it's a short compiled of every duelling rule. The other books teach a bunch of important spells and I Even practice some of them in the dark while my roommates sleep. In the morning, I'm a little tired but I'm also feeling fiercer and braver.

Now that I have Ravenclaw on my side, nothing will stop me.

* * *

On the following day, right after breakfast, I meet Chester behind the Greenhouse One, where we find a place to practice away from everyone's sight. Our only audience is Rowan and Ben, who are sitting in the grass discussing the exams that are to come.

"Okay, Athena," Chester starts. "Today I'll teach you three different spells. It will be exhausting, but they are extremely necessary. Merula is not a tough opponent, so you don't need any extreme spells. Slytherins are known for their sneaky tactics, but we are known for our wits. Remember that."

He withdraws his wand, looking at me with his clever brown eyes. I mimic him, feeling my heart pounding with anticipation.

"I'm going to teach you _Rictusempra, Expelliarmus_ and _Protego._ Do you know what they're used for?" he asks.

I nod. " _Rictusempra_ is the tickling charm, _Expelliarmus_ is meant for disarming the opponent, and _Protego_ works as a shield."

He smiles. "Very good. Now let's do this."

We spend the rest of the morning practicing. Chester is extremely skilled, and I have to pay close attention to even recognize the movements he makes while casting the spells. He's swift and agile, and I find myself hoping to be like him one day.

He teaches me each spell separately, putting emphasis on what it means to cast a stronger or a weaker spell. _It all depends on the intensity of your concentration,_ he tells me. _On how much damage you want to inflict or on how much you want to protect yourself or others._

As the morning goes by, he teaches me the effect of _Rictusempra_ and how it can be used prior to _Expelliarmus_ , because the target will be completely distracted. _Protego_ , however, seems to be the one I like the most. The though of being able to protect myself, Rowan and Ben is what gathers all the energy inside of me, that seems to pulsate when Chester gets on position and flashes me a fierce stare.

"Now, let's duel," he says.

I straight my back and place my feet in a battling position, just like he taught me, staring at him like a hawk. Every breath he takes, every time he blinks his eyes are things that I don't want to miss.

" _Flipendo!_ " he casts, throwing the bold of white light towards me.

" _Protego!_ " I shout, feeling the invisible shield surrounding me, protecting me from his spell. I take the opportunity, as his spell dissolves, to his back. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

For my surprise, his wand flies away from his hand, falling softly on the grass, near Ben's feet. The boy releases a scared shriek, looking at the wand as if it is a demon.

" _Rictusempra!_ " I cast, not waiting for him to grab his wand back.

A jolt of light emanates from my wand, hitting Chester on his stomach. He's thrown back, falling ungraciously on his knees. The sound of his laughter is loud and desperate, as if he doesn't want to laugh, but just can't contain himself.

"Wow!" he says, finally getting up and wiping the tears from his eyes. "That was impressive. You're definitively ready to face Merula."

I blush. "Thanks, Chester. And… sorry about that."

"Are you kidding me? It was awesome. And your shield was impressively strong. Please, let me know when you kick Merula's arse. I really want to watch."

I smile, feeling the confidence building inside of me. Rowan and Ben applaud excitedly, staring at me with grins on their lips. Chester makes a bow, winking at me as he returns to the castle for lunch.

Rowan rushes to me, hopping like a little bunny. "Athena, would you teach me how to duel?"

I frown. "Why didn't you ask Chester when he was still here?"

"Because I trust you more," she tells me. "And there's just so much that we can learn in class. You seemed to absorb everything so easily…"

I blink. "I don't think that this is a good idea. I've just learned these spells."

" _Please_ ," she says, holding her hands together. "If Merula attack me again, I want to know that I can fight back."

"Row, these spells are meant for defence," I say. "We won't wander around attacking Merula like she's a punching bag."

"I know," she moans. "Though it would be awesome to punch her in the gut."

I snicker. "Okay, okay. I'll teach you. Ben, do you want to join us?"

His eyes widen. "Uh… no, I think I'm good."

"You won't be able to defend yourself from that brat using just _Lumos_ , Benny," Rowan says.

"That's only because you haven't seen my _Lumos_ ," he says. "It could literally blind her."

We make an appointment to learn more about duels after lunch. Ben tells us he's okay with watching, as long as we don't drop our wands neat them. _Who knows what they can do without supervision_ , he said. We return to the castle for a much-deserved lunch of tomato soup and roasted beef, where Chester kept looking at me with pride in his eyes.

Shortly after, with our stomachs full, we find a place to practice near the lake. Ben opens his Charms book to study, looking at the lake with wide eyes when he sees the tentacles that emerge every now and then.

"Are we going to duel now?" Rowan asks, thrilled. "There's no one around…"

"Let me teach you the spells first," I say, giggling.

I spend my afternoon teacher her exactly what Chester told me: how to properly hold the wand, the correct posture and how to enunciate every syllable. Somehow, by teaching her, I feel it all becoming more natural to me.

"Now we can duel," I say, leaving a safe distance between us.

"Yay!" she shrieks like a tiny squirrel, standing in position.

Rowan is a fast learner. That's the first thing I realize when she looks at me with excitement, is that she's also willing to be the best. It almost makes me feel bad when I hit her with _Flipendo_ , making her fall onto the ground. However, she quickly stands up and casts _Expelliarmus_ at me, making my wand fly away from my hand.

"That was great, Row!" I say and she smiles.

"Can we go back to the castle now?" Ben asks. "The Giant Squid is giving me the creeps."

We laugh and walk back to the castle, talking about the new spells we learned. Rowan keeps looking at me with a glow in her eyes, looking all happy and relaxed.

"I feel like I'm prepared to face anything that Merula has in store for us," she tells me.

"Who know wizarding school would be more than just dusty books and casting spells, right?" I say, hooking her arms in mine, walking happily to the warmness and cosiness of the Great Hall.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for much for being with me through another chapter! Please, leave your review so I can know your opinion.

* Roar, by Katy Perry


	8. Year 1: Chapter 8 - Icy Conversations

**A/N:** _ **This chapter has been rewritten.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Eight - Icy Conversations**

 _Where are you? And I'm so sorry_

 _I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight_

 _I need somebody and always_

 _This sick strange darkness comes creeping on so haunting every time*_

* * *

The weekend comes and goes without a sign of a duel, leaving me to wonder if Merula finally gave up on making my life miserable. She looks more tired than ever, with deep dark circles around her eyes, almost looking like bruises. I keep asking myself it it's because she cries a lot – her parents being in Azkaban and all – or due to lack of sleep, because she's planning to murder me.

We learn how to cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ in Charms and it looks to me like a great spell to use in a duel. You know, in case Merula is truly planning to murder me. Rowan looks pretty excited about it too, and I keep wondering if she's more excited with the thought of an imminent duel than I am.

"Now, I'd like you to practice your spells in a classmate," Professor Flitwick says, and Rowan immediately looks at me with glitter in her eyes. "It's different to use it in a person than in an object. It's way harder and far more challenging. Remember, kids, that you'll need to use double the concentration. So, pair up and start practicing."

All around the room, students find their pairs. Even a few Ravenclaws pair up with some Gryffindors. Among them all, I see Ben sitting by himself, looking extremely dismayed.

"Row, do you mind pairing up with someone else?" I ask her. "I think I'll practice with Ben."

"Oh, of course," she says, tapping me on my shoulder. "Good luck."

I walk to Ben, who's staring at his wand, but when he sees me coming, he looks at me with puppy eyes. "C'mon, Ben. Let's practice."

"I'm afraid of heights," he murmurs. "That's why I'm terrible at flying."

"I won't let you fall, Ben," I say. "I promise. And you know what? Maybe, if you conquer this fear, you may ever overcome your fear of flying."

He looks at me with a hopeful expression. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so," I say, pulling him by his hand. "Now let's go."

"I think you're highly underestimating my fearfulness, Athena," he says, holding my hand tightly.

"And I think you're underestimating yourself," I say. "C'mon. You'll find that flying is nothing to be afraid of."

A soft, slightly frightful, smile appears on his lips as we find a vacant spot at the edge of the classroom, near the door. Ben looks at me with trembling lips and I notice some of our classmates, who are practicing near us, are trying to contain some giggles. I roll my eyes. I refuse to leave Ben behind just because people have no patience at all. I know he's skilful with Charms, so there's no reason for people be doubt his capacity.

"Okay, Ben," I start. "I'll cast the spell now. Try to relax, okay?"

"I-I'm not so sure about this…"

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " I enunciate, and Ben immediately leaves the ground, floating gently just a few inches from the stone floor. His eyes, wide and astonished, express all his surprise. "See? You did it! You're one step closer to overcoming your fear, Ben!"

I lower my wand, making him return safely to the ground. The smile upon his lips slowly starts to fade, and I frown when I notice he's looking rather… green.

"Now I'm closer to realizing my fear of getting sick in public," he gasps, covering his mouth with his hands. "You'll have to excuse me."

He rushes to the door, opening it with one hand while the other is kept over his lips. He disappears on the corridor, his hasty footsteps getting silent as they go away. I sigh, feeling awful.

 _Maybe I've pushed him too far…_

"Don't worry, Athena," a Gryffindor girl named Mila tells me, trying to bear a reassuring smile. "That's Coward-Ben. That's what he does."

I roll my eyes again, wondering if all this bullying is any helpful to Ben's issues. Not a single of his housemates seem to be worried about him. Rowan flashes me a sad smile as I stand by her and Tulip, waiting for the lesson to end.

* * *

There's a commotion at the Courtyard when I get there with Rowan after Charms. I waited for her outside of the classroom while she was asking Professor Flitwick some questions about the spell we'd just learned, and all our housemates were probably on their way to the Greenhouses.

However, when we get to the Courtyard, I notice that Tulip is still there, along with many other students.

"What's going on?" I ask her.

"It's Merula," she says. "She's threatening Ben. He keeps trying to walk away, but she won't let him."

I clench my jaw. "I'm so sick of this maggot."

I push some people away, taking a bit of effort to get through the mass of crowd that's between Ben and me. As I push the last students away, I'm faced with a circle of people around Ben and Merula, who's holding her wand defiantly in his direction. Ben, however, is retracted near the crowd that is being no helpful at all.

"You're an embarrassment to everyone in our year!" Merula shouts at him, disgust in her eyes.

"Just leave me alone!" he begs, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

"Pathetic Mudbloods like you shouldn't even be allowed at Hogwarts. Leave the magic to real witches and wizards!"

I take a deep breath in, stuffing my chest. "Leave him alone, Merula!"

"Make me!" she says as I place myself between Ben and her, fury in my eyes. " _Flipendo!_ "

I'm faster than her. " _Protego!_ "

"Why don't you be more like your mad brother, Lockhart, and go missing?" she hisses.

"You're the person everyone wishes would go away!" I shout, angry.

" _Flipendo!"_ she yells again.

I cast another shield. "Is this the only spell you know? _Expelliarmus!_ "

Her eyes widen as my spell hits her hand, making her wand fly away from her reach and fall onto the stone floor. A gasp escapes her mouth as the crowd produces some excited sounds.

"That's not fair!" she screams. "You can't be better than me! No one can be better than me!"

"Apologize to Ben, Merula!" I order, pointing my wand at her.

"I'll never apologize to you losers and Mudbloods!" she says. I feel my body freeze when I see the imposing figure of Professor Snape rise behind her. "I'm Merula Snyde! Fourth generation Slytherin! The greatest witch at Hogwarts! I do what I want and when I want! I run this school! I-"

Professor Snape cleans his throat, clearly annoyed, and Merula's violet eyes widen as she loses her voice mid speech.

She turns around, slowly, to face his irritated expression. "Professor Snape!"

His obsidian eyes pierce me. "I suspect this is your fault, Miss Lockhart. Are you aware of Hogwarts's policy on unauthorized dueling?"

"Did you cast the first spell in this duel, Miss Lockhart?" Professor Flitwick's sweet voice says as he rises from among the crowd of students.

"No, sir," I say, firmly. "Merula hit me with _Flipendo_ first."

"Miss Snyde cast the first spell, Professor Snape." Professor Flitwick says. "Which implies that Miss Lockhart was simply defending herself."

Professor Snape's eyes are pure distrust. "And I wonder where she learned the Disarming Charm, Filius."

"She is one of my most skilful first-year students, Severus," Professor Flitwick says. "It wouldn't surprise me if she had learned such spell all by herself."

Professor Snape clenches his jaw, his eyes returning to me. "Regardless, it is against the rules to duel in the school grounds. Meet me in the West Towers after dinner to face the consequences of your actions, Miss Lockhart."

I bite my bottom lip, furious and in disbelief, looking at Professor Flitwick, because I'm sure he won't let such unfairness be accepted. However, as the crowd dissipates and Professor Snape goes away, he simply walks to me with dismay. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Lockhart, but Professor Snape is correct. It is against the rules and there's nothing to be done about it. Nevertheless, I'll make sure that whatever punishment that he has in mind, is mild due to your courage to step up to protect a friend."

I sigh. "I understand. Thank you, Professor."

"Never forget, Miss Lockhart. Sometimes it's okay to break a few rules… when the situation requests it. As a Ravenclaw, you must always remember this. It isn't always wise to be uptight."

I nod, and he walks away, leaving me alone with Rowan. She looks at me, a sympathetic look on her face. "C'mon, Athie. We'll be late for class."

* * *

It's hard to pay attention to Professor Sprout's lesson and, later, at Professor McGonagall's lecture when my blood is boiling red. Though Professor Flitwick tried to make things better, I continue to not understand how Merula can simply wander around doing all kinds of horrible things and remain unpunished. I should've cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ on her and thrown her in the fountain…

That evening, I take another lonely walk to the dungeons. I keep on thinking about the day that I felt into the Devil's Snare "claws" because of Merula. How many times will she put me in danger or compromise my academic success? How many times will Professor Snape be unfair to me? Does it please them to make me this miserable?

"Hi, Athena," a sweet voice sounds from behind me.

I turn around, only to find the pretty face of Penny Haywood. "Oh… hi. Do you… know who I am?"

She giggles and it's a beautiful sound to hear. "Does that surprise you?"

"Well… yes," I say. "I mean, you're the most popular girl in our year."

"So are you," she says.

I frown. "No… I don't think so."

"Well, I beg to differ. Everyone's talking about the heroine who was brave enough to stand up to the tyranny of Merula Snyde. Not to mention all the rumours surrounding your brother."

I sigh. "I'm not sure if it's good or bad. I got in trouble for facing Merula."

"Sometimes even the righteous falls, I guess," she says. "Anyway, I wanted, in the name of all Hufflepuff, to say thank you. Merula was making it miserable for everyone. I specially appreciate how you used your wits to make her stop bullying Ben Copper."

I shrug. "I couldn't just stand and watch."

"I agree," she says. "But only you were brave enough. I hope Snape doesn't punish you for your bravery. And let me know if I can ever help you with anything. I know all the gossip around and I'm pretty good with potions, if I may say so."

I smile. "Thank you, Penny. That's very sweet of you."

She winks. "My pleasure. I'll see you around, Athena."

I watch her walk away; her luscious blonde hair and flawless braids shaking with her movement. It feels nice knowing that not everyone in this castle believes that I'm a freak and a troublemaker. I return to my walk towards the dungeons, feeling a little lighter.

As I climb down the stairs, I notice that Professor Snape is already waiting near the door that leads to the dungeons. Next to him is Merula, who's bearing a very disturbed expression.

"Now that Miss Lockhart is here," he says, emotionless. "I can discuss your punishment. _Expulsion_ seems to be the most logical option.

My eyes widen, but Merula's get wider. "I had nothing to do with it, Professor!" she shrieks. "I only defended myself when this _mental case_ attacked me!"

I roll my eyes, miffed.

"Everyone saw you cast the first spell, Miss Snyde," he says. "This, however, does not excuse Miss Lockhart's behaviour. Why shouldn't you receive the harshest punishment for your actions?"

His black eyes meet mine, and I feel like I'm buried in ice. However, I don't lose my pose. I straighten my back, looking at him with the same intensity. "I'm terribly sorry, Professor Snape, but I was only trying to defend my friends."

"Anyway, though expulsion seems like the most logical punishment for duelling on school grounds, our Headmaster is illogical and believes that expulsion is unfair in this case."

I try my best not to portray a smile.

"If either of you are ever caught duelling on school grounds again, I can assure you that will not be so fortunate," he glances at me with iciness. He doesn't look at Merula the same way. In fact, he doesn't look at her at all.

"Professor Snape!"

The school caretaker, Mr. Filch, comes rushing down the stairs, followed by a small kitten that he calls Mrs. Norris. I try not to cross his eyes, because he's even scarier than Professor Snape. He always looks like he would love to kill one of us.

"What is it, Mr. Filch?" Professor Snape says.

"You must come with me right away," he says. "It's about… _the Vaults._ "

"Return to your common rooms," Professor Snape orders sharply, looking at me with coldness.

Merula looks at me from the corner of her violet eyes while Professor Snape rushes after Mr. Filch, running upstairs and disappearing from sight. Her lips curl in a devilish smile as she looks at me with her eyes glistening.

"They must be talking about the Cursed Vaults," she says.

I frown. "The Cursed Vaults?"

She ignores me. She rushes upstairs, following the path that they probably went, leaving me alone in the hallway. Something inside of me tells me to return to my common room and ignore her, but a throbbing inch of my soul seems to beg me to follow her. It's almost like I can hear my brother's voice, lost in a corner of my mind, telling me that I must pursue my instincts.

I rush after Merula, keeping a safe distance between us. I can hear her hasty steps upon the long rugs that cover the corridors, but she doesn't notice that I'm behind her. I try to be as silent as possible; in case Professor Snape or Mr. Filch discover her presence and stop her, I'll have time to run away.

I watch her hide behind a pillar when Professor Snape and Mr. Filch finally stop at the end of a long corridor. I hide behind a suit of armour, paying attention to listen to their murmuring voices in the silence of the corridor.

"Who else knows about this?" Professor Snape asks.

"Only me and Mrs. Norris saw the ice, Professor," Mr. Filch says, the kitten in his arms. "I was going to report the incident to the Headmaster."

" _I_ will inform Professor Dumbledore," he says, sharply. "This may have something to do with the Lockhart situation."

My blood runs cold.

"Is it true that the Vaults are filled with gold and powerful prophecies and artefacts from before Hogwarts even existed?" Mr. Filch asks. "And that's why the Lockhart boy lost his mind trying to find them?"

"Don't worry about what's _inside_ the Vaults," Professor Snape says, incisive. "Worry about keeping everyone out. Lock this door and keep it guarded."

I leave the corridor as soon as their conversation ends. My heart feels cold and heavy, almost as if it's a block of ice. The same coldness from my nightmares seems to fill every inch of my body as I walk hastily back to my tower. I don't know if Merula remained following them to uncover more secrets, but this seems like more than I can bear.

I knew that Jake was obsessed with the Cursed Vaults. Mum and Dad had serious talks to him about it, but he never listened to them. He said it was important that he'd find the Vaults before anyone else and when everyone refused to believe him, he got expelled. I'll never forget the forlorn expression on his beautiful face when he came home, midterm, packed his bags and told us he was leaving. Mum and Dad thought it was just a phase… that he was rebelling.

And then, he never came back.

 _Oh, Jake… What happened to you?_

* * *

* I Miss You, by Blink 182.


	9. Year 1: Chapter 9 - Chocolate Frogs

**A/N:** _ **This chapter has been rewritten.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Nine - Chocolate Frogs**

 _Fly_

 _Open up the part of you that wants to hide away_

 _You can shine_

 _Forget about the reasons why you can't in life_

 _And start to try_

' _Cause it's your time_

 _Time to fly*_

* * *

 _Help me…_

 _Find me…_

 _Athena…_

"Jacob!" my brother's name jumps out of my lips as I wake up, sitting on the bed, breathless after spending my whole nightmare running. His voice is still fresh in my memory: a scared, desperate call.

I look around. Thankfully, none of my roommates heard me and their heavy breaths prove me that they're sound asleep; hopefully, they're having good dreams. I sigh escapes my lips as the desperation that I felt in my nightmare continues to run inside of me. I get up, put on my jacket and loafers and leave the dorm.

Everything is silent. My steps on the spiral staircase is the only sound that can be heard. I enter the common room – majestic Rowena Ravenclaw greets me with wise eyes – and I find a nice place to sit on front of the fireplace. In the dark, I can hear the crickets singing in the distance.

I rub my hands together, trying to warm them. The coldness inside of me can't seem to fade away and the darkness within the fireplace is no help. I hug my bent legs, resting my cheek on one knee, staring at the void. My mind, so loud, won't let me sleep again.

I hear one of the dorm's door open and soft footsteps march upstairs. A gleam accompanies the person who's climbing the stairs and my heart feels slightly less restless when I see the face of my best friend.

"Athie?" Rowan says, walking to me. "Are you okay?"

"Did I wake you up?"

"Would it upset you if I said you did?" she asks, sitting next to me. "You've been doing it since Snape mentioned expelling you. You know… screaming your brother's name."

I look at her – at her kind eyes that glisten under the soft light of her wand – and feel my heart withering. "Sorry."

"I know you love Hogwarts," she says, resting a reassuring hand upon my arm. "But you don't have to be afraid. You won't be expelled."

"I know," I say, letting out a sigh. Rowan is truly an amazing friend. She's loyal and sweet and funny and endlessly trustworthy.

Then why the hell have I been omitting things from her?

After I returned to my common room after hearing Professor Snape and Mr. Filch talking about my brother, the Cursed Vaults and something that they're suppose to guard, my mind was a swirl of so many unhinged thoughts that I ended up keeping them all to myself. I was afraid that, if I spoke about them out loud, Rowan would end up thinking that I'm a freak and wouldn't want to be my friend anymore. However, keeping it all to myself has been more damaging than helpful.

"I'm terribly sorry, Row," I say, my voice barely a whisper.

"You don't need to apologize, Athie," she says. "It's not your fault that you've been having nightmares."

"It's not just that. I've been a bad friend… I've been… keeping things from you."

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The night Professor Snape mentioned his deep desire of see me expelled, something else happened," I say. "Regarding… Merula."

"What did that awful worm do to you?" she says, altered. "I swear to Merlin. I'm going to kick that disgusting brat right in the-"

"She didn't do anything," I say. "Shocking. I know. I just ended up following her that night. She went snooping on Professor Snape and Mr. Filch. They were talking about the Cursed Vaults."

"The Cursed Vaults?" she gasps.

I nod.

"This can't be good," she says.

"I know. Some say they're a myth… but my brother believed in them. People thought he was crazy, but now they seem to be real… I don't know what do think."

Telling her everything about it takes away a big weight off my shoulders. Though it wasn't on my plans to drag her into me freakiness, I needed her friendly presence and reassuring smile to help me through it. I guess, despite it all, this is what friends are for. In weakness and in health… In craziness and in sanity…

"So, Merula is, pardon my language, full of shit," she says. "Wandering around… calling your brother mad… calling _you_ mad… When all this time she's been interested in the Vaults too."

"I just don't know what's wrong with her," I say. "Sometimes I feel sorry for her… and sometimes I just wanna strangle her."

"And who doesn't?"

* * *

Since the night I followed Merula, I've been trying hard to avoid any trouble, specially around Professor Snape's watch. He's been staring at me during every Potions lesson, and the intensity of his stare makes me feel like he's looking right into my soul. Adding to that, I have Ben, who's having a lot of trouble in Flying and, with the imminence of our exams, I'm doing my best to support him.

"Here," I say, handing him a couple of books about flying. "I know theory is nothing like reality, but I think it might help."

"Do you think I'll ever be brave enough to fly?" he asks me.

"I believe in you, Ben," I say. "You're braver than you think. I know you don't come from a magical family and that everything can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. But there's nothing to be afraid of. Magic is cool."

"I know," he says, sadly. "But I'm also afraid of the dark. And loud noises. And getting surrounded. And mushrooms. And all this Halloween decoration is also freaking me out. I just don't think I belong in here, Athena."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Ben," I say. "I know there's a brave Gryffindor somewhere inside of you."

"You have more faith in me than I have in myself."

His words linger inside my head through the course of the week. On Thursday, after a particularly awful Flying class – for him, at least – I decide to talk to Madam Hooch, Rowan by my side.

"Professor," I say while she's storing all the brooms inside the Broom Closet.

"Yes, girls?" she says, eyeing us with her bright yellow eyes.

"Our friend Ben is still really afraid of flying," I say. "We don't want him to fail the tests next week. So, we were wondering if we could help him outside of class. With your supervision, of course."

She lifts her thin brows, looking very surprised. "Well, that's very generous of you, girls. Yes, Mr. Copper is really having a lot of issues with flying. I think a little extra practice, away from curious eyes, would indeed be good for him. Meet me in the pitch in half an hour."

Rowan and I exchange a smile. If there's something that Ben needs, after all the torment he's been through, is some people believing in him.

Half an hour later, after a lot of pushing and pulling, we manage to take Ben to the Quidditch pitch. Madam Hooch is already waiting for us, holding a broom. Ben's eyes seem to get wider with every step.

"Are you ready to conquer your fear of flying, Mr. Copper?" she asks with a sweet smile.

"Almost certainly not," he says, trembling.

"I will be watching from the bleachers," she says. "Don't you worry, Mr. Copper. Soon you'll realize that flying is one of the best things in the entire world."

She leaves us, and Rowan grabs the broom and hands it to Ben, whose hands are shaking so much that he almost lets it fall. He looks at me, almost in panic.

"C'mon, Ben," Rowan says. "You can do it!"

"I-I'm not sure."

"Ben," I say, holding his shoulders. "Do not fear the fall. We'll be here to catch you."

A smile slowly appears on his lips. "T-thanks."

"Now give it a try," I say. "You read the books I gave you, didn't you?"

"Y-yes," he says. "But I'm not sure if what I read will help me."

"Don't underestimate the power of books," Rowan says.

Ben lets out a long sigh as he climbs on the broom, looking at us with scared eyes and trembling lips. I flash him a reassuring smile and he seems to relax a little bit.

"Just a gentle leap," I say.

I'm genuinely impressed on how he's showing considerately less nervousness now that it's just the three of us. I watch him take a gentle leap; at first, I think nothing will happen, but his feet don't touch the ground after he leaps. He's floating – just a few inches above the ground – with his eyes firmly closed and his jaw clenched.

"Ben," I say, calmly not to distress him. "Open your eyes."

He opens them slowly, and his jaw instantly drops. "I-I'm flying!"

"You're flying!" Rowan says, clapping her hands. "You did it!"

"Oh my God!" he gasps. "I'm flying!"

"We knew you do could it, Ben!" I say, happy.

From the bleachers, Madam Hooch starts to applaud.

* * *

That evening, as we talk together to the Great Hall for dinner, I'm feeling better than I've been in many weeks. For the first time, the scat left by my brother's disappearance doesn't bother me as much, and I feel genuinely happy for having such good friends. Ben seems to be thrilled as well, flashing smiles at Rowan and I, and talking nonstop about how good it felt to fly.

There's yelling coming from the Great Hall when we get there. From where we stand, we can't see what's happening. In the crowd, I see Penny, standing next to the pink-haired girl whose name I learned to be Tonks.

"Hey," I poke her, and she looks at me with her baby blue eyes. "What's going on?"

"Kettleburn is flipping out," she tells me. "Apparently, some first year Slytherins played a prank on him. Too soon to tell, but I bet Merula is involved."

"Impossible," I say. "She'd had to have some friends to be part of a prank group."

She giggles. Her freckles seem more pronounced when she smiles, covering her cheeks and small nose. Her hair, of a sunflower blonde, is perfectly styled in two flawless braids, while the rest falls lusciously straight until her elbows. In a certain way, she resembles Marilyn Monroe. An eleven-year-old Marilyn, but still. No wonder she's so popular; she's smart, sweet, funny and very, very pretty.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, ALBUS! _"_ I hear Professor Kettleburn yell. "I AM THROUGH WITH TEACHING CHILDREN!"

"Please, Silvanus, let's talk in my office," Professor Dumbledore says, concerned.

"NO!" he replies. "I AM SICK! I AM SO SICK OF THIS CRAP!"

Rowan looks at me with wide eyes. I think it's the first time we have ever heard a professor curse. There's a big crashing sound when he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

By the time everyone sits down to eat, there's not a single conversation that isn't about what just happened. I've never imagined that Hogwarts would be like a shrine for gossip, but I guess that they say it's true: news travel fast around here.

The dinner – all designed to fit the Halloween spirit – is better than I had anticipated: there are pumpkin pies, bat shaped cookies, a delicious red juice that looks like blood, and truffles that change your tongue's colour. Rowan is already stuffing her mouth with food, her face bearing an expression of pure delight.

"My goodness!" she says, trying the chocolate pudding and then the blackberry pie. "This is so much better than that Indian grub my mum makes at home."

I giggle. Later, when we're already changing into our pyjamas to sleep, she's still talking about the delights of dinner. _Halloween could happen more often, don't you think?_ She kept talking about the sugar cookies – she even smuggled some, wrapped in a napkin – and how the red velvet cake tasted divine.

As I take my robes and place them on the chair next to my bed, something falls from one of the pockets. It's a small, pentagonal blue box. I grab it, staring at the shiny packaging of a Chocolate Frog. I frown, turning the box in my hands. Written on the verse, is a small message: _Forever thankful. B.C._

Rowan comes and reads it from over my shoulder. She instantly rushes to her robes too, searching her pockets, anxiously. "That bloody lion better have one of me too, or I shall…" she fishes something from her pocket. "Ace! Thank you, Ben!" and she proceeds to open the box and eat the frog's head.

"Row, aren't you full?"

"There's always room for chocolate, Athie," she says with a satisfied smile.

I brush my teeth and tuck myself in the softness of my bed. After such wonderful day, I'm expecting only sweet, sweet dreams. As soon as I fall asleep, I find myself following a bunch of chocolate frogs. They leap happily, all over the castle, and lead me to that same cold corridor where Professor Snape and Mr. Filch were discussing the Vaults. This time, there's no coldness. No darkness. There's just the sweet scent of chocolate invading my lungs.

The frogs leap straight to a door that opens before I can even touch it. Inside, there's a big staircase, shrouded in a cold, dense mist. Before I even consider climbing it, the dream changes. I find myself face to face with a frozen suit of armour, which seems to be ready to attack me. I try to run away, but the dream changes again. I'm standing in the middle of the Great Hall, but I can't see the flags, the tables, not even the floor.

Instead, all I see is ice.

* * *

* Fly, by Hilary Duff.


	10. Year 1: Chapter 10 - Christmas Miracles

**A/N:** _ **This chapter has been rewritten.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Ten - Christmas Miracles**

 _Light up your face with gladness_

 _Hide every trace of sadness_

 _Although a tear may be ever so near_

 _That's the time you must keep on trying_

 _Smile, what's the use of crying?*_

* * *

"Straight O's," Rowan says, opening her report card. "Which the excepting of Flying, but it doesn't matter. I don't intent on pursuing a career in Quidditch anyway."

I run my thumb over the big O next to "Potions". It's strange that though he seems to despise me, he still manages to indirectly praise me by giving my an Outstanding in every assignment.

"Girls!" Ben shouts, running to us. "I did it! I got an A in Flying! I'm not a Troll!"

Ever since we helped him overcome his fear of Flying, he got increasingly better at it. He even risked a few different moves during the lessons, making all our colleagues feel bad for having doubted him. He sits next to us by the fountain, bearing a big bright smile.

I look at the blank space next to Care of Magical Creatures. "I can't believe Professor Kettleburn quit on us."

"I know," Rowan says. "I was getting used to those Kneazles."

"Well, he didn't exactly quit on us," Ben says. "We'll only be seeing him again in our third year. Thanks to those slimy Slytherins."

"I find impressive that Dumbledore managed to convince him to change this class to an elective," Rowan says. "I was pretty sure he was going away."

I sigh. "I wonder what those Slytherins did to him."

"I heard some rumours," Ben says. "That they put a bunch of Filibuster Fireworks in his office and it made all his creatures pretty stressed out. You know how sensitive Kettleburn is about his magical creatures."

Now that the exams are nothing but a memory, the following weeks seem to flow very smoothly. Even Professor Snape seems to be a little more relaxed and Rowan says it's a result of all the T's that he probably graded while correcting his students' tests. And now that we don't have Professor Kettleburn's lessons anymore, we also have a lot of extra free time, that I use to study, practice my singing and visit Twilight at the Owlery.

On December 21st, the Frog Choir is to perform a Christmas song during breakfast, before everyone heads back to their houses for the holidays. Professor Flitwick is being very perfectionist, reason why I find myself singing the song everywhere I go.

" _Join the owl's joyous flocking on this merry Christmas day_ ," I hum, distractedly, in a particularly calm day at the Owlery, while I run my fingertips over Twilight's feathers.

"So," the most annoying voice in the entire world says, filling the place with coldness. "Have you told anymore about what Snape and Filch said in that corridor?"

"I don't know what they said," I tell her. "I didn't go snooping on them like you did."

"You're such an idiot, Lockhart," she hisses. "Thankfully, your little friends are useless and won't ruin my chances of getting inside that room."

I turn around, looking at her. "What room?"

"You really don't know?"

"I really don't know," I lie.

She snickers, mischievously. "I thought you would like to know that they're real. The Cursed Vaults."

"Are you after them?" I ask, turning around to give Twilight a little treat.

"None of your business," she says, sharply, and I roll my eyes.

"My brother was looking for them," I say.

"And he failed because you come from a family of failures," she replies, laughing evilly.

"Funny for you to say," I say, giggling sarcastically. "Coming from a girl whose parents are stuck in Azkaban. I read about their trial. And that they're doomed to spend the rest of their lives in a cold cell."

I don't have to look at her to know she's staring at me with fire in her violet eyes, probably wondering if it's wise to push me through the window. I hear her harrumph and leave, her steps heavy. I'm not sure if mentioning her parents was a wise choice, but it made me weirdly satisfied.

* * *

Merula doesn't address me the word for another blissful week, until the cold morning of December 17th. Winter is hovering the horizon, making the sky grey and the air chilly, and I have to wear a scarf while walking with Rowan to the dungeons. We watch Merula walk past us, hasty and annoyed, and enter the classroom before we have time to climb down the stone staircase.

As Rowan chops her doxy livers, I mix my potion with care. From the corner of my eye, I can see Merula's potion release a light peachy fume instead of the bright orange that it's supposed to be.

I look at Rowan. "Should I help her? I should, shouldn't I?"

She shrugs, adding ten drops of Flobberworm Mucus to her cauldron. "I guess it would be the right thing to do. But then again, getting her head stuck in a cage with a baby manticore also seems like the right thing to do."

"I'm not so sure," I say. "I think she'd scare the poor baby with her ugliness."

We giggle as I turn to look at a particularly worried Merula. She's scratching her head while staring nervously at her book, trying to figure out what she did wrong.

"Hey," I call. "You stirred your potion only five times, instead of seven. That's why it's wrong colour."

She looks at me with venomous eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Shockingly," Professor Snape says, approaching her cauldron. "In this sole instance, Miss Lockhart is correct."

Merula gapes as she looks at him in complete stupor.

"I guess even a reckless, incompetent fool like yourself can become a middling witch by following instructions, Miss Lockhart," he says, looking at me with jet-black eyes. "Ten points for Ravenclaw."

Now it's my turn to get awe struck. He doesn't see my expression, because he's checking on the other students' potions, but it makes me feel wonderstruck during the entire lesson. I finish my potion, placing a bit of it inside a crystal flask and leave it over his desk. It could be the candle lights playing tricks on my mind or maybe there was something inside my morning tea, but I can swear that a glimpse of a smile runs through his lips when he looks at me before I leave the dungeons.

For a moment, everything seems right.

* * *

Another week ends and before I can realize, it's time to perform next to the Frog Choir. The frog I'm holding is heavy and lumpy, and seems to be more excited than I am, for I can feel his heartbeat against my palms.

The Great Hall is full of students wearing their regular clothes, having their last magical breakfast before returning home for the holidays. There are a lot of pine trees beautiful decorated, hollies, ribbons and bells everywhere, and I even spot some mistletoes strategically placed under some arched around the castle.

I join the choir in front of the teachers' table, which is now empty. All the professors are sitting with their students in the respective houses they belonged in, waiting for our performance. Professor Dumbledore seems particularly proud to be sitting next to Professor McGonagall at Gryffindor's table.

Professor Flitwick stands in front of us and raises his baton to start conducting us. From Ravenclaw's table, Rowan eyes me excitedly, raising to happy thumbs up at me.

" _Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, ring the Hogwarts bell_ ," I sing along with my companions. " _Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, cast a Christmas spell._ "

I risk a glance at Slytherin's table, but Merula is nowhere to be seen. Instead, my eyes meet Professor Snape's and this time he isn't looking as severe as he usually is. There's a hint of a smile on his lips. A hint… but it's a smile, nevertheless.

Once we finish the song, our performance receives a standing ovation, which fills me with joy when I see Professor Dumbledore applauding us.

"That. Was. Fantastic!" Rowan says when I rush to sit next to her.

I smile, grabbing a steamy ladle of porridge. "Thanks."

"Hey, Athena," Penny says, walking to me. "Great performance. Here, this is my address. Please, keep in touch."

"She is so sweet," Rowan says. "Speaking of address, promise me you'll write. I know we'll be away for just two weeks, but I'll want to know everything."

"Well, you can expect Twilight's visit at Khanna's Tree Farm in Bach."

"And you can expect some very nice letters at Lockhart Gardens," she says, opening a broad smile. "By the way, why are you spending the holidays at your grandparents'?"

"Because the Christmas party is usually there," I say, stuffing my mouth with porridge.

I've been in school for just three months and people already seem to know a whole lot about me; that Jake went mad while looking for the Vaults, that my cousin is a cocky spoiled twist that craves attention… Though I'm thankful for having Rowan in my life and being able to show her who I truly am, I'm sure if I want to share the reasons why I'm spending the holidays with Grandpa and Grandma. Not now, at least.

 _My darling daughter,_

 _We've spent the last months looking for your brother, but, unfortunately, we haven't been able to find him. Your mother is extremely unwell, and I think it's best for your mental health if you spend the holidays with your grandparents in Devon. We feel like we've abused their kindness by making them stay at our house to take care of you, so they went back to the Gardens, and I think you'll be better there with them. They've already taken most of your stuff and if you need anything else, I'll be sure to send to you._

 _I'll be staying with your mother at a muggle spa, away from everyone who knows us, so she can have a good rest. Hopefully, with the proper treatment and some peace and quiet, she'll be better in no time and we'll all be able to go home together._

 _I want you to know what we're very proud of you and we've already left your well-deserved Christmas present at your grandparents'. We love you more than words can say, and I don't want you to doubt it not even for the slightest second._

 _Merry Christmas, honey. We miss you very, very much._

 _All my loving,_

 _Dad._

I've read the words over and over again, as soon as my parents' owl arrived. They still echo in my head, like a sad song that seems to throb inside my heart. Though I know I'll be happy at my grandparents' house, I can't help but feel out of place. All I want is for things to be normal again.

"Miss Lockhart," Madam Hooch's voice startles me.

"Madam Hooch," I say, opening a smile.

"I just want you to know what I've informed the Headmaster about your and Miss Khanna's kindness to Mr. Copper. He decided to reward twenty points for each of you for your sensibility and initiative."

"Wow!" Rowan gasps. "Thank you so much, Professor!"

I take a look at the hourglasses. At last, Ravenclaw is leading the House Cup. Slytherin is just behind us, but it doesn't matter. I feel like I'm finally being helpful to my house, instead of the harmful reckless freak everyone though I was. I try to erase any negativity about my mother and the fact that I know that she isn't really at a spa. I try to fill my mind with happy thoughts as I finish my breakfast and follow Rowan to the train station.

The beautiful scarlet train is waiting for us, ready to lead us through snowy landscapes and meandering sceneries, directly to foggy London, where my parents won't be waiting for me. I try to ignore the gloominess, relying on sweet conversations with Rowan and Ben, and the joy of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs. The cherry on top are our cheerful conversations about Merula and her world domination plans.

Despite everything, I'm happy.

* * *

* Smile, by Charlie Chaplin.


	11. Year 1: Chapter 11 - Family Madness

**A/N:** _ **This chapter has been rewritten.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven - Family Madness**

 _Dearly beloved are you listening?_  
 _I can't remember a word that you were saying_  
 _Are we demented or am I disturbed?_

 _The space that's in between insane and insecure*_

* * *

"Did you like it?" Grandma asks while I try on the deliciously soft night-blue sweater she knitted for me, the word RAVENCLAW written across my chest.

"I love it, Grandma!" I say, wrapping my arms around her. "You're the best."

"Now, this one is from me," Grandpa says, handing me a long thing box.

" _Guys_ ," I say, opening the present. "You've already gave me Twilight. And that watch, remember?"

From the top of the crystal cabinet, Twilight releases a long hoot, looking particularly satisfied after having brought me a large dead rat in the middle of the night.

"Let us spoil you and stop complaining," Grandpa says, filling his pipe with tobacco.

I open the wooden box, lifting the gorgeous black quill from its velvety interior. Under the light of the chandelier, it seems to almost glisten. "It is gorgeous!"

"It's a raven feather," he tells me.

I smile crosses my lips; the deep black colour of the quill somehow reminds me of Professor Snape and the ten points he awarded me.

"And this is from your parents," Grandma says, handing me a small square box.

Written on the paper that's wrapping the box, it's a message in my mother's penmanship:

 _Because the ocean and the skies_

 _Cannot compare to your sparkling eyes_

"Mum has always loved poetry," I say, unwrapping the box, only to find the most beautiful earrings; square studs of stunning blue gemstones, framed in gold.

"It's lapis lazuli," Grandma says, moving my hair away so I can put them on. "They make your eyes even bluer, if that's even possible."

" _Sparkling-eyed Athena,_ " Grandpa quotes, releasing a circle of smoke in the air. "It was the first Muggle book your mother read. That's why your name is Athena."

"The Odyssey," Grandma tells me. "Your father lent it to her while they were at school."

"I know. It's her favourite book."

Grandma flashes me a lenient smile, rapidly turning to grab another present from underneath the tree. In the sweetness of her smile, I can notice that she's hurting. She doesn't need to tell me; her eyes say everything.

* * *

That night, I dream about my mum. We're at the same foggy staircase of previous dreams – darkness surrounding us – and the dense, dreadful cold seems to pierce our skins. She's crying, desperately calling for Jake. She screams, but her voice simply echoes and returns to her, fading into the immensity of the never-ending stairs. She looks at me. Her eyes, along with her tears, seem to be dripping hopelessness.

As she continues to call for him, something begins to change. Her eyes, once of the most beautiful amber colour, start to turn icy blue. The tears, once staining her porcelain skin, freeze on her cheeks. I try to speak, but my lips can't seem to move. When I look around, there's only ice.

"NO!" I shout in the darkness.

I cover my eyes with my hands, trying to contain the tears that immediately begin to flood my pillow. My heart, racing inside my chest, feels cold.

It doesn't take long for Grandma to rush into my new bedroom, her wand lit. "Sweetheart, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"

I sit, breathing heavily. I won't tell her about the details of the nightmares that have been haunting me for the past several months. However, feels good just to know she's around. She sits next to me, eyeing me with concern.

"I dreamt about Mum," I say. "I wish I could write her. Can I? I just need the address and I-"

She shakes her head. "No, darling. Your mother is going through a lot right now. Some time in that spa will do her some good."

"Grandma," I say. "I know Mum is not in a spa."

She doesn't reply. Her long fingers run through the length of my hair, gentle and kind, as her amber eyes express all the sadness she's also feeling.

"It bothers me too. Jake's disappearance. I know it bothers her more, but I just don't understand why she had to leave me."

"Oh, dear," she says, wrapping her arms around me. Her intense perfume calms my aching heart. "I know. But we're here with you, okay? We're not going to leave you."

"I miss them so much," I say as a tear falls down my face. "Mum… Dad… Jake…"

"Me too, sweetie. Me too," she holds my face in between her hands, drying the lonely tear with the tip of her thumb. "Things will get better when your brother returns."

In her arms, I feel a little safer. In my mind, a whirlwind of thoughts rush through my brain: the Cursed Vaults… the ice… the nightmares… Jake's voice… Mum…

 _Things will get better when your brother returns._

 _Jake…_

* * *

I have bags under my eyes when I wake up on Christmas morning. After Grandma left my room, leaving me with thoughts and sadness, the only thing that brought any kind of calmness was knowing that Twilight was watching over me.

While I'm having breakfast – trying to enjoy the quietude of the morning and the chirping birds -, the front door is unceremoniously and unannouncedly opened, revealing the most whimsical trio ever.

The woman – tall, skinny and very blonde – is my Aunt Anise. She's wearing a long bright red dress with furry white and black coat on top, looking like a more pretentious version of Cruella de Vil.

The boy – now a young man – is my cousin, Gil. I kept telling Rowan what a giant peacock he is, but nothing in the world would prepare me for the bright turquoise robes covering his bulky body, with a peacock tail made out of real peacock feathers framing the rem of his clothes. His hair, always so blonde, wavy and shiny, seemed like a magnet to his hands, because he entered the living room running his fingers through the golden locks.

The man – shy, serious and normal-looking – is my Uncle Bart. He's definitely what's the most whimsical in his family. His ash brown hair, brown eyes and moustache make him look extremely… ordinary. And with the commonness of his dark grey suit, he looks like a high school teacher whose clothes don't quite fit him properly.

"Mum!" Aunt Anise calls, and as my grandmother leaves the kitchen, she rushes to place a kiss on her cheek. Grandma, however, dodges the bright red lips of her daughter. "The garden is divine as always. And Athena! Congratulations for being sorted into Ravenclaw. Let's just hope you're just as outstanding as my Gilderoy."

I swallow a giggle, trying my best not to roll my eyes.

"Let's hope that it doesn't happen, Anise, dear," Grandpa says, handing her a cup of steamy tea.

"Oh, yes, yes," she says, taking a sip. "You're probably right, Dad. We wouldn't want anyone outshining my little star."

Grandpa flashes me a secretive smirk and I wink at him from behind my cup of tea. As I eat my toast, I can't help but wonder how such a snob person like my Aunt managed to come out from a wonderful woman like my grandmother. Did Grandpa drop her on the floor when she was a baby? Maybe she hit her head and that's why she's so helpless. Or maybe it's like what people say: firstborns are like pancakes… The first one always comes out wrong. It makes me thing of Jake, and I wonder if this theory is actually accurate.

When breakfast is done, Aunt Anise takes Gil for a walk through the gardens, leaving poor Uncle Bart alone in the living room. I watch him circle the room and stop in front of a bookshelf. It's not truly stacked with only books, because there are books everywhere around the house. He looks at the portraits, then to some strange objects and small sculptures, until he stops and withdraws a copy of Frankenstein from the shelf.

"Have you read this book?" I ask him, trying to start a conversation.

He doesn't reply. He simply looks at me and smiles kindly, his eyes then returning to the book. I stand there for a few more seconds, feeling extremely awkward, and then leave to my bedroom. I bury myself in books and self-contemplation, lodged by the window seat.

By the time the rest of my family arrives, dinner is already set, and I even helped Grandma make her famous blood orange upside down cake. My Great-Aunt Althea, that's already tipsy and walking around the house like she's no clue where she is, looks like she's ready to attend a funeral: black eyeshadow, black robes and an endless expression of disgust on her dark berry lips.

She approaches Grandma, who's making some whipped cream for the pies. "Agatha, dear. Is Annette here? I was hoping to find her here."

"Do you see her anywhere, Althea?" Grandma says, sharp. "Frankly, woman. Don't you think before you speak?"

"Oh," she says, covering her lips with her fingertips. "Did I say something wrong?"

Grandma flashes her a pair of killer amber eyes. "You know better than anyone that my Annette is traveling, looking for my grandson."

"Yes, yes," she says, looking up, as if she's remembering. "The one who went mad, right?"

"Don't make me regret inviting you, Althea," Grandma hisses, pointing a whisk full of whipper cream in her direction.

I rush to my bedroom to get dressed, trying not to think of Mum or Jake. I put on a white sweater and a red circle skirt, slipping on my dark red mary-janes. I brush my long light blonde hair, until the waves are looking luscious, and grab on a red ribbon. For a while, I get lost in my own reflection. My blue eyes stare back at me, bringing back memories of when things were easier. I'm so distracted that I don't notice Gil standing by the door.

"Here," he says, startling me. "Let me help you with this."

He grabs the red ribbon I'm holding, pulls half of my hair back and ties it in a flawless bow. He then runs his fingers through the rest of my blonde hair to make the waves fall graciously over my back.

"Golden locks," he says, looking at himself in the mirror. "It's a family thing. Mine are more golden, of course."

His eyes return to me, and he holds my chin with his extremely soft hand. "Oh, dear. I have the perfect formula for your dark circles. It will be in stores by the end of the month, so soon you'll be able to buy it."

I smile, wryly. "Thanks, Gil."

He leaves, and I let out a long sigh before following him to the dinning room. The long table is beautifully set; there are many lit candles that change colour, glittery stars pending from the chandelier and Christmassy crochet _sousplat_ that Grandma made herself and that Aunt Anise keeps admiring.

I sit next to Grandpa, who promptly flashes me a sweet smile. Across from me is Gil, who's talking nonstop about the many incredible things he's already done in such young age.

Dinner unrolls as expected: Aunt Anise spends the whole meal bradding about what a marvellous perfection of the world Gil is, Uncle Bart says nothing at all, and Gil is all smiles and cockiness. Whenever Grandma tries to talk about another subject, Aunt Anise makes extra effort to return the conversation to Gil's projects, Gil's amazingness and Gil's beauty.

"There are so many girls in love with him, Mother," Aunt Anise says. "You're no idea."

"Uh-huh," Grandma says, eating another bite of turkey.

"And he's so smart!" she continues. "The beauty products he's producing… they're incredible!"

"Oh, Mum," Gil says. "You're making me bashful."

"Oh, darling," she says. "Like I could ever make you feel shy."

He giggles, and his eyes fall on me. "Well, that's true. I'm not shy. Nor mad!" and proceeds to laugh profusely.

My hands instantly close into fists. I clench my jaw, trying to control my magic to prevent anything from exploding. I feel Grandpa's hand under the table, gently wrapping around my fist. I look at his electric blue eyes – the same colour of mine – and I feel a little better.

"And how are Alchemy and Alexanne, dear?" Grandma asks, trying to change the subject again.

Aunt Anise rolls her eyes. "Those two squibs. Alchemy married a Muggle. They're expecting a Muggle baby now."

Uncle Bart looks down, and for a moment I feel extremely bad for him. Why did Aunt Anise marry him is she despises non-magical people? Is it because he's common and quiet and would never outshine her? Even though he's not talkative and looks a bit reserved and an introvert, he seems to be a nice man. He's been respectful and gentle to her the entire night, pulling her chair for her to sit and pouring more wine into her glass. He even handed her a napkin when he noticed she had gravy on her chin. In my eyes, he doesn't deserve such foul woman.

"And Alexanne," Aunt Anise continues. "Well, you know her. She's probably living of her art somewhere. The last time we spoke, she was moving to Paris. Too bad they're not like my Gil."

"Uh-huh," Grandpa says, looking at me from the corner of his eyes. "No, dear. No one is like Gil."

"I know!" Gil says, excitedly, opening a perfectly white smile.

Sitting next to Gil is my cousin Ambrosia. She's the daughter of my Aunt Agrafena (she's actually my mother's cousin, but I call her Aunt for politeness reasons). Agrafena means born feet first, which is self-explanatory, I guess. No wonder my Great-Aunt Agnes didn't have other children.

Ambrosia is twenty years-old, just like Gil, but they look nothing alike. Sitting next to him, she almost looks ugly. Her golden locks are opaque and lifeless, and her face bears an expression of deep anxiety. Though her face is round and beautiful, with her dark circles and clenched jaw, she looks out of place when compared to Gil. I wonder if the tried to sell her his beauty products too…

Sitting next to her is my Great-Aunt Althea. She doesn't have any grandchildren, just two twin daughters: Acacia and Acadia. They don't speak much, but then again, Gil speaks enough for everyone. The both wear their hairs short, cut straight in a bob hair style. They also wear long fringes that cover their brows, showing only their extremely long blonde lashes.

Outside, the snow starts to fall, but the crackling fire on the fireplace keeps the room comfortably warm. Ambrosia looks through the window and bites her bottom lip nervously. I don't really know why she always looks so stressed out, and I'm not sure if she would like if I asked.

"And what about your Muggle grandparents, Athena?" Aunt Anise asks, drinking her fourth glass of wine. "Didn't care to join us today?"

Nor ever. I haven't seen Grandpa Adam and Grandma Joanne in a while. They are extremely afraid of anything that has to do with magic, since Dad exploded Grandpa Adam's car when he was fifteen. They now try to love perfectly common lives. Grandma Joanne is a nurse and Grandpa Adam is the headmaster of a Muggle high school. They're probably spending Christmas at their house in Plymouth with my Aunt Josephine and my spoiled cousins.

"They're on a cruise," I lie. "Will be spending the holidays in the Caribbean."

"Fascinating people, these Muggles," she says, as if Uncle Bart wasn't one. "I've heard they have photographs that do not move. Can you believe it?"

"Well, yes," I say. "My brother owns a Polaroid. It's an instant camera. But no, the images don't really move."

"And how do you feel about it, honey?" she asks, her cheeks bright red from all the wine.

"About Polaroids? Fine, I guess."

She giggles. "No, no. About your brother. Tragic thing, wasn't it? Let's hope you don't do the same at school."

She looks at everyone, waiting for someone to laugh with her or join her in all the teasing, but they all just stare at her like she's a bit insane. I swallow the rest of my cake and poke Grandpa in the arm.

"May I be excused?"

He winks at me, grabbing his pipe to smoke again.

"Frankly, Sebastian!" Grandma complains. "Do you really have to smoke after every meal?"

I climb the stairs to my bedroom. From the dining room, I can hear Aunt Anise complain about my behaviour, and Grandpa reply, telling her to mind her own business. I close the door behind me, resting my back against it. A long sigh escapes my lips as I move to the window, lodging upon the window seat. From where I am, I can see the never-ending lawn and the endless gardens that surround the house.

My fingers look for the present that Rowan sent me: a bracelet made of gorgeous wood beads. _Mahogany_ , she told me, _from Khanna's Farm._ I close my eyes, ignoring all the voices that come from downstairs. I think of Hogwarts, Rowan, the Vaults and all the mysteries that seem to surround Jake's disappearance. Grandma's words, still fresh, rush through my mind.

 _Things will get better when your brother returns._

Though it's mad and reckless, I can't help but wonder if Jake's evolvement with the Cursed Vaults somehow culminated with his disappearance. Maybe – and it's a big and terrifying maybe – if I find these Vaults, I'll be able to find my brother. And then everything will be okay again.

I can't believe that I'm considering it… However, with Mum sick, Dad losing hope and my only brother lost somewhere, it seems like the logical choice. The _wise_ choice. Something someone like Rowena Ravenclaw would do.

 _I guess…_

But doesn't it make sense? If Jake and the Vaults are somehow connected, I have to, at least, try. I won't become obsessed about it, I'll just… try.

I rub my temples, feeling the icy sensation of hopelessness dominate my soul.

 _Have I gone mad?_

* * *

* Jesus of Suburbia, by Green Day.


	12. Year 1: Chapter 12 - Mad Plans

**A/N:** _ **This chapter has been rewritten.**_

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve - Mad Plans**

 _You think I'm crazy; You think I'm gone_

 _So what if I'm crazy? All the best people are_

 _And I think you're crazy too; I know you're gone_

 _That's probably the reason that we get along*_

* * *

When I think of 1985, I think of achievements. I think of changing perspectives. I think of that feeling that comes when you're about to do something crazy or potentially lethal. 1985 shall be the year that I'll acquire mountains of knowledge. That I'll feed my friendship with Rowan, Ben and Penny. That I'll ignore Merula's attempts to irritate me. That I'll convince my friends to join me in a possibly dangerous quest. That I'll try to find the Cursed Vaults without being caught. That I'll find out, at last, what happened to my brother.

After some relatively peaceful days at my grandparents' house, with Grandpa working on his new novel and Grandma receiving clients to buy her potions, I am left with clearer spaces on my mind. The holidays gave me time to consider letting go of any reckless thoughts and that Mum will probably drown in depression and that there's not a glimpse of hope of Jake coming back home.

Then again, it was all just mere consideration.

 _Things will get better when your brother return…_

Grandma's words are what gave me the right perspective. Not that she knows about anything I've been thinking about. No. She would explode if she even imagined what I'm planning. I didn't even share my thoughts with Rowan.

Yet.

The day before returning to school, I sit with my grandparents in the living room to have hot cocoa in front of the fireplace. My thoughts – loud and clear – are my constant companions. Grandpa and Grandma, lost in their own contemplations, have no idea what I'm up to. Grandpa lights his pipe and the vanilla scented smoke seems to relax every inch of me. Grandma, knitting a beanie to match my new sweater, flashes me a loving smile.

"Honey," she says, breaking the silence. "You never told us about the Sorting Ceremony. How was it?"

After that day, I haven't payed much thought about the Sorting Hat and his divergent thoughts on where to place me. Brave like a Gryffindor… Sensible like a Hufflepuff… Ambitious like a Slytherin…

"The Sorting Hat said that I reminded him of a which he once knew," I say. "Someone who was also thirsty for knowledge and longing for faithful friends."

"Well," Grandma says. "I know a few remarkable witches he may be referring to. Maybe even Rowena Ravenclaw herself."

I frown. "Really? Why?"

"She's Ravenclaw's founder, as you already know," she tells me. "An extremely intelligent and wise witch. She even created a diadem that would bring even more knowledge to whoever wore it."

"The one her daughter stole," I say.

She lifts her brows.

"Rowan told me about it," I tell her.

"Well, what Rowan forgot to mention is that Rowena's daughter, Helena, ran away with the diadem, far, far away from her mother's reach. She was desperately trying to surpass her own mother."

She stops knitting and rests the beanie on her lap. "Rowena felt extremely ashamed by her own daughter's betrayal and decided to hide it from everyone. Even from her fellow founders. One day, she fell terribly ill and her last wish was to see her daughter again. She would do anything just to hold Helena one more time. She asked someone to go after her. A man she knew was madly in love with Helena."

"And did he find her?" I ask, curious.

"Oh, yes," she says. "But when Helena refused to return with him to the castle, in a fit of rage, he stabbed her with his sword. Her book stained his clothes and he fell on his knees, overcome with guilts, and took his own life."

"And who was the man?" I ask.

"You know him, dear," she says.

"How can I know him if he's dead?"

"He's the Slytherin house ghost," she tells me.

My jaw drops. "The Bloody Baron? You mean to tell me that The Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron haunt the same castle? That's terrible! An everlasting pain!"

"But it isn't more terrible than what happened to poor Rowena. She wasn't able to see her daughter again and died of a broken hear," Grandma tells me, resting her face on her hand. "The things these kids do to their poor mothers."

"Oh, Agatha, can you be any more dramatic?" Grandpa says. "Rowena Ravenclaw died of dragon pox. And weren't you the one that almost killed your mother when your pranked her with fake blood, screaming that you had been attacked by a werewolf?"

"Not the same thing," she says, continuing to knit. "As I was saying, sometimes all a mother needs is to have her kids back."

By the tranquillity in her voice, it doesn't seem like she's implying that Jake is the one causing my mother's Rowena-like turmoil. However, I'm sure it is the case.

"And why are we so alike?" I ask her. "Rowena and I."

"Well, you're intelligent like her. And kind. And bookish. And is waiting for someone to come home, I think."

I look down, at the whipped cream floating atop my hot cocoa, and think of Jake. Above everything, I want to see him again. I want to see the shapes of his face and hear his voice. I want to hug him and feel that everything is fine.

The moon is high on the sky when I finally lay my head on the pillow. I touch Rowan's bracelet in the dark, and the softness of the wood somehow relaxed me. Twilight is enjoying his last night of hunting before we return to Hogwarts. He's probably looking for some excessively large prey, just to bring me the half-eaten carcass later.

I keep hearing Jake's voice inside my head, but not just the desperate calls that sometimes I hear in my dreams. I can hear him singing; keeping up the pace of the guitar, fingering the strings like they're made of silk. I can hear him hum to U2, Aerosmith, Queen and Van Halen.

" _Is this the real life_ ," I hum in the dark. " _Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide. No escape from reality._ "

I rest my hands against my heart, hearing it drum through the night.

 _Oh, Jake. I wish you were here. I wish you would talk me out of this. But you're gone. And I need to find you._

* * *

In the morning, I'm feeling better about my decisions. The options were weighted, and finding my brother seems to be the answer to everything. If I'm being reckless, it's my twisted Slytherin side speaking. If I'm brave enough to do something stupid, it's Gryffindor. If I'm sensitive and caring and desperate to find my brother, it's Hufflepuff. However, I won't travel far without knowledge, wits and my fearless friends next to me.

I won't be like Rowena Ravenclaw. I won't send someone to solve my business. I'll prepare. I'll study. Above all, I'll go myself. If Jake is truly involved with the Cursed Vaults, I'll be the one to find them and solve the mystery surrounding Jake. He seems to be the chain connecting everything and, if I can't break it, I'll find the end of it.

Grandma left me some stuff before leaving to deliver a few orders: new inkpots, more parchment rolls, an old Edgar Allan Poe book, and the beanie she finished knitting. Grandpa is the one who takes me to King's Cross to take the train back to school. It was hard to have breakfast and then walk next to him without telling him what I'm planning. Will he be disappointed if he ever finds out that I'm not the pinky princess he thinks I am?

Rowan is already at the platform, talking to her parents. Her mother has a small toddler in her arms, that is smiling and giggling at Rowan.

"Athena!" Rowan calls, and Grandpa and I walk to them. "Mum, Dad, this is Athena."

"Wonderful to finally meet you, dear," her mother says in a very strong Indian accent. "And you must be Sebastian. My father used to tell me amazing stories about you."

"Thank you, Madam," Grandpa says. "He was truly an incredible man."

"Athie, this is my babe sister, Aisha," Rowan says, shaking her sister's tiny and chubby hand. "Someday she'll go to Hogwarts too! We found out she's a witch too during the holidays. She kept levitating her pacifier!"

I smile, happy to be near her after these cold wintery days. Though the air is still very cold, her fiery personality makes me feel better. We say goodbye to our families and find an empty compartment near the train's end. She empties a paper bag full of chocolates on the empty seat and it makes me feel a little more courageous to tell her what I've been thinking about.

"Listen, Row," I say. "I don't wanna leave you out of my thoughts anymore. I already omitted the whole Merula and the Cursed Vaults thing and I don't want to hide things from you. I wanna be able to trust someone and how that I'm not alone in this boat."

"That's exactly what I've been thinking," she says, sitting by the seat's edge. "I think we should investigate the Vaults."

"What?" I gasp.

"I mean, if your brother is involved, it is possible that his disappearance might have something to do with the Cursed Vaults. And if something is happening at Hogwarts… something sinister enough to worry Snape, it must be something major."

I blink a few times. "But Row, this could be dangerous. I just want you to know that I don't want to put you in any sort of danger."

"We won't be in danger," she says, simply. "We'll prepare. Read. Study. We'll gather important information and, most importantly, we'll be careful."

"I didn't take you for an adventurous person," I say.

"There's a lot you still don't know about me," she says. "And even though breaking the rules and losing house points and possibly facing detention or expulsion or imminent death doesn't quite thrill me, I think it's pretty exciting that we might uncover a mystery. I mean, I've always loved detective stories."

I relax on the bench. "Well… I definitely didn't see this coming."

She giggles.

"But we'll need to be careful. Merula is looking for them too," I say.

"That stinky worm will never be able to find them alone," she tells me. "Whereas we have each other."

I smile, feeling my whole body relax. I grab a chocolate and we engage in a conversation that lasts for eight hours. I tell her about my grandmother's words – that inspired me – and about my mother being in a mental care facility. If Rowan and I are to be best friends until, at least, our graduation, she needs to know the real me. Fully. Entirely. No lies.

She seems to be happy that I'm wearing the bracelet she gave me. She tells me that she ate the truffles I made for her the instant they arrived. _The caramel ones… Ugh! They were marvelous,_ she said. I'm also wearing my new blue earrings; a reminder that I'm not doing this because I'm reckless or irresponsible, but because of my mother. She wants Jake back as much as I do, and I'll lose her too if I don't find him soon.

"You said Snape commanded Filch to guard the corridor," Rowan says, pensive. "But Filch can't stay there forever. I mean, he has work to do, right?"

"What's on your mind?" I ask her, already spotting the castle behind a curtain of clouds.

"It is very likely that he'll leave Mrs. Norris guarding the door," she says. "And getting rid of her won't be so problematic."

"Of my God, Rowan!" I gasp. "Are you considering killing Filch's cat?"

"What? No! I was thinking of giving her some Sleeping Draught Potion, just so we can have a closer look," she says. "It will just knock her down for a while."

"But how are we supposed to brew this potion without anyone noticing? We won't be learning it until next year."

"I'm glad that you asked," she says, taking a small purplish flask from her bag. "I went ahead and scrounged it from my mother's personal stock. She's having trouble to sleep now that Aisha is teething."

I look at her, impressed.

The door opens abruptly, and the jump scare makes Rowan drop the delicate flask onto the floor. "Hi, girls. What are you up to?"

I look at Chester with wide eyes. He sits next to Rowan, bearing a happy and proud smile.

"I talked to Angelica," he tells me. "She's Gryffindor's Prefect. She heard that I thought you how to duel, and she thinks it would be a good idea if you dueled Ben Copper."

"Come again?"

"She said he's very good in Charms, so he would be an excellent challenge for you."

"Chester, Ben is my friend. I won't duel him. And besides, I was almost expelled for dueling Merula. I'm not going to jeopardize it all again."

"No one will know," he says. "And if anyone asks, I'll just say I'm helping you guys with some spells."

I look through the window, letting out a sigh. I don't even know if Ben is aware of this. He doesn't like confrontations and that's a given. However, Chester won't give up on this so easily. Maybe, and it's just a maybe, I can help Ben defend himself better.

I look at Chester. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Very well, then! Go put on your robes, girls. We're almost there."

Once he leaves and the wagon door is shut, Rowan looks at the potion bottle, completely shattered on the floor, and then looks at me in complete desperation.

"Holy cow! What are we gonna do now? The potion is gone! Our plan is gone! We'll really have to murder Mrs. Norris now!"

"Rowan, keep it down. You're hysterical," I say. "Don't worry. I think I know a way of getting another flask."

"How? Are you going to steal it from Snape's storage? You're truly bolder than I thought."

"No!" I say. "I'll simply ask Penny."

"Penny Haywood?" she says, slightly shocked. "But… she's so popular. Would she even accept it?"

"She said she'd help me if I ever needed. And she's pretty good with potions. I'm sure she knows how to brew this one."

"All right, then," Rowan says. "It's a plan."

"Have we gone completely mad?" I ask her.

"Entirely bonkers."

We rush to put on our robes, feeling the train slowly lower its pace, until it fully stops at the station. We leave the train and I stare at the castle ahead of us. We're tracing our plant straight into the rabbit hole, but there's no Wonderland waiting for us on the other side of the haunted door.

* * *

* Mad Hatter, by Melanie Martinez.


	13. Year 1: Chapter 13 - Frosty Experiences

**A/N:** Hi, you guys! How are you doing? I'm currently re-editing these chapters to get rid of any incoherences, but if you spot anything wrong, please let me know. Also, if you have any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen – Frosty Experiences**

* * *

It's a snowy January in Hogwarts. All the towers are covered in glistening white powder, the mandrakes at the Greenhouses are wearing scarves and even the Whomping Willow has its wintery glory. I'm already wearing the sweater Grandma knitted for me, along with the blue beanie and Ravenclaw's scarf.

"Wow," Rowan says when she sees me. "You're in a true Ravenclaw spirit."

Our first Saturday back in the castle is nothing but studies, only we're not exactly studying for class. We're studying useful spells, important potions, anything that could help us with our quest. When I talk to Penny about the Sleeping Draught, I don't tell her our true motives, but she seems excited to brew it for us.

"My pleasure, Athena," she says. "People always come to me for gossip, so it's refreshing when someone recognizes my skills with potions."

Though I think it's a little unfair to keep her in the dark, I also think it's best if I leave her out of this. Though she said I could trust her, I don't want her to get in trouble too. She's very kind and even sent me a couple of letters during the holidays, but I haven't spent as much time with her as I've spent with Rowan.

* * *

Penny asks me to meet her on Monday, in the Potions classroom. Apart from the both of us, the room is completely empty. Potions class has been cancelled, but we're not aware of Professor Snape's reasons.

"Hi, Penny," I say, walking to her, and realizing she's already brewing our potion. "Where's Professor Snape?"

"We lost our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Snape is campaigning with Dumbledore, even though the position clearly is cursed," she explains with a serene smile.

"Professor Shelley is gone?" I frown.

She nods. "Rumour is, he's not going to get it," she says, adding lavender sprigs to the boiling concoction.

"I feel like I didn't learn much from Professor Shelley," I tell her. "She always seemed so scared to be teaching us about Dark Arts."

"Probably because she knew she wouldn't last long," Penny says. "But you're about to learn something about Potions right now."

She flashes me a big smile and hands me her notebook where the recipe is written in a very pretty penmanship. Her writing is rounded and clear and there are even steps written with different colour inks. I begin helping her with the potion and we end up spending the hour brewing it together while talking about our teachers, friends and common rooms.

"Our common room is really beautiful," she tells me. "With a lot of plants everywhere, a lot of open spaces, furniture in earthly tones… Very cosy, really."

When the potion is finally done, she pours some in a few flasks and hand them to me. In case a need some extra, she tells me.

"I can't thank you enough, Penny," I smile. "I owe you one."

* * *

Professor Snape seems to be really frustrated during our Potions class on Friday. He even takes away points from his own house when a boy named Barnaby drops his cauldron on the floor, spilling the burgundy potion everywhere. After that, I spend all class trying not to disturb him and the result of my potion is flawless. Penny may be incredible with potions, but I guess I'm pretty good too.

During dinner, Chester approaches me with the Gryffindor Prefect, Angelica Cole. She's very tall and elegant, with bronzy skin and dark chocolate hair. She stands next to him, hands on her hips, looking at me with mistrust.

"Angie, this is Athena," he says. "Athena is amazing at duels. I think she could really help Ben Copper."

"Ben is really good at Charms," she says. "But he's afraid of everything. Are you up to the test?"

"Of course," I frown. "I helped him overcome his fear of flying. Ben is capable of anything when people have a little bit of faith in him."

Angelica smirks at me, but it's a somewhat snobby smile.

"Very well, then," she says. "Let's all meet Sunday morning at the Astronomy Tower. There will be no one there."

Though Rowan seems excited to watch me teach Ben how to duel, Ben himself doesn't seem pleased at all with the idea of facing me. He spends all Saturday drowning in anxiety and when we sit down at the Library to study, his leg keeps shaking the table and I notice he's having a bunch of nervous ticks.

" _Ben_ ," I whisper, because if Madam Pince finds out we're speaking, she'll be mad as a Hatter. " _We don't need to duel if you don't want to._ "

" _I want to_ ," he whispers back. _"I'm just… scared. You know. As usual_."

Rowan walks with us to the Astronomy Tower. The day is particularly chilly, and the air seems to be even colder at the tall tower. When we get there, Angelica and Chester are already waiting for us.

"Okay, Ben," Angelica says, tapping him on the shoulder. "You can do it. Show these Ravenclaw what being a Gryffindor is all about."

Chester rolls his eyes, but Angelica doesn't see. She also can't seem to realize that Ben doesn't really seem like someone who wants to show me something. He has a nice grip around his wand, but I can see that his knees are trembling. Rowan, Chester and Angelica walk back and sit in a safe distance. Rowan has a look on her face of pure thrill.

I don't want to be the first one to strike, but Ben doesn't seem to be moving any time soon.

" _Rictusempra!_ " I shout, and a flash of red light emanates from my wand.

" _Protego!_ " he manages to protect himself, though he's shaking so much that I'm afraid he might pass out before the duel ends. " _Flipendo!_ "

I'm also quick to shield myself and quickly add another spell. " _Wingardium leviosa!_ "

Ben immediately starts to float above the ground, but though it startles me that he doesn't look scared about it, it also makes me really happy for him.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " he casts while still on the air, and my wand flies from my hand.

There's a big clashing sound when Ben falls to the floor after interrupting my Levitation Charm.

"Way to go, Ben!" Angelica claps. "That was awesome!"

"Ouch," he gets up, massaging his buttocks. "Thanks."

Chester walks to me with a smirk on his lips.

"Very clever use of the Levitation Charm," he taps me on my arm. "You'll only get better with the years."

I spend the following week watching Ben walking confidently by the halls. He walks from class to class with a big smile upon his lips. He's a sweet boy and doesn't deserve to feel sorry for himself all the time. Magic is supposed to be fun, and not scary.

Rowan and I try to practice our spells every time no one is watching. We push furniture with _Flipendo_ , randomly disarm each other, practice our recently learned _Alohomora_ in her jewellery box… I'm starting to build up my confidence too, knowing that we're probably more prepared than Merula.

"Athena," Rowan says one night while we're lying on her bed. The rest of the girls are either on the bathroom or still in the common room. "Do you think it's wise to be just the two of us? Don't you think we should take someone else with us?"

"What do you have in mind?" I ask. "And in no way I'm bringing Merula with us."

She snickers. "No. I was thinking about Penny. She was really helpful, you know, brewing us that potion. Maybe we could trust her."

"I guess," I say. "Penny is very sweet. I don't think she'd be untrustworthy. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

In the dark, I stare at the ceiling. I wonder what a true Ravenclaw would do. Probably not what we're about to do, but something inside of me agrees with Rowan.

We shouldn't be alone in this boat.

* * *

I manage to intercept Penny when she's leaving the girls' bathroom. As usual, she has two perfectly shaped braid framing her face, and her icy blue eyes seem to sparkle when she sees me.

"Athena!" she smiles. "How nice to bump into you!"

"Actually, our bumping was kinda planned," I grin. "I'd like to talk to you about something."

We take a walk around the castle grounds. The cold air almost hurts our skins, so I cross my arms to warm myself.

"I know I already owe you one," I say. "For brewing me that potion, and I'm sorry for being so secretive about it."

"No problem," she says. "I know it takes time to trust people."

"Yeah," I look down. "But I really feel like you're a good friend, Penny. So, I'd like to ask you for another favour."

"Of course," I look up to see her smiling. "But why me?"

"Well," I shrug. "Because you're kind and generous, you know gossip but never spread it around, and you're an amazing girl, actually."

I'm the worst person when it comes to complimenting people, but Penny doesn't seem to care. Her smile only widens, and she rests her glove-covered hand on my shoulder.

"I'm really flattered," she says. "I'm so glad you see me as your friend. And, as a true Hufflepuff, of course I'm going to help you. I just need to know exactly what's going on."

"Do you promise not to tell anyone?" I show her my pinkie.

"I do," and she hooks her pinkie in mine.

It's weird to discuss everything that has been happening, but she doesn't seem to demonstrate fear of apprehension. Instead, her face enlightens, and she flashes me a big bright smile. I explain everything about my brother, about the Vaults, about how Rowan and I are preparing to face many dangers, and even about our plan to knock out Mrs. Norris.

"How exciting!" she shrieks. "I've always wanted to know more about Hogwarts' mysteries! People say there are a bunch of secret rooms and passages inside the castle. Oh, this is so amazing!"

"I'm honestly surprised by how excited you look."

"I know, right? I'll brew some more useful potions for us to take to our quest."

* * *

The week only seems to get better. I manage to internally laugh when I watch Merula fall from her brook during Flying lessons, and then the broom hits her hard on the face when she tries to grab it. Though it was immensely fun, and I felt like bursting into laughter, I think it would only make her angrier. She already has more preeminent dark circles, if that's even possible.

We watch the snow melt and the flowers starting to bloom. Though the seasons pass, we continue we study, prepare and train for our quest. The scent of recently-blossomed flowers brings me a lot of inspiration and whole lot of confidence.

We decide to plan our investigation to May 18th, the third Saturday of the month. Most of the students will be in Hogsmeade, so the path will be pretty much clear. These months will only help me build my friendship with Penny, who's even sweeter and funnier to be around than I had anticipated.

* * *

I can barely sleep on the Friday preceding our reckless quest, but not because I'm frightened. No. I'm actually pretty excited. The perspective of finding my brother and having my Mum happy again fills me with a warm confidence.

Our choice of day couldn't be more fortuitous: all students from third to seventh year are going to Hogsmeade, and the rest are enjoying a beautiful sunny day in the school grounds. The weather is getting warmer and comfortable, and there are a lot of first year students playing Gobstones on the grass. The castle seems to be pretty much empty, with the excepting of a few lonely students wandering the corridors, heading to their common rooms or to the Owlery.

The fifth floor is completely desert, with the likely presence of Filch, who's guarding the mysterious door. Rowan and I wait for Penny in the Choir Room, following the plan that she'll trick Filch into running back to his office, far away from there, with the excuse that she overhead Peeves mentioning a terrible prank to his room.

Penny seems to be delighted with the perspective of a possible adventure. Rowan and I can see her hopping towards the corridor, her braids shaking up and down, from a gap on the door.

"Do you think it will work?" Rowan asks me, biting her lip.

I shrug, hoping her the best.

It doesn't take long for a tempestuous Filch run down the corridor, yelling so many curse words and calling Peeves every ugly name possible. Penny whistles at us, making a sign for us to follow her. Rowan smiles excitedly, and I'm also happy that our silly plan actually worked.

As expected, Mrs. Norris is guarding the door. Her striped fur looks flawlessly brushes and her big yellow eyes look dangerous as usual. She simply glances at Penny with utter disgust when the girl kneels in front of her and drops a bit of a milky solution on the floor.

"I mixed the potion with a little bit of milk," she giggles, excited.

Mrs. Norris looks at Penny with curiosity, but then starts to lock the potion from the stone floor. A satisfied expression arises on her cat face and she looks at Penny again, this time with begging eyes, but they soon start to grow heavy and her lids close. At last, she collapses on the floor, sound asleep.

"Wicked," Rowan smiles.

Penny grabs Mrs. Norris and places her over a wooden bench, in a position that makes her look more asleep than dead.

"Our plan is working," Penny says. "If magic doesn't work out for us, I guess we can always become burglars," and she laughs devilishly.

"Quick, let's do this before Filch comes back," I say, rushing to the door with the girls next to me.

The door doesn't seem very imposing or dangerous. In fact, it's actually just a very simply door, made of a dark reddish wood.

" _Alohomora_!" I say, and I hear a discrete click of the door being unlocked.

" _Flipendo_!" we listen a familiar voice from somewhere behind us, and I'm pushed back by a flashing white light.

"What the hell?" I turn around, but Merula is already casting the spell again, hitting Rowan directly on the chest, and one more time, making Penny hit the wall. "Merula, you filthy worm!"

"I was wondering how to unlock this door and get past that nasty cat," she says with a mischievous smile. "All I had to do was follow you and wait for you to do it for me."

The pique sensation inside me seems to vanish quickly when a new perspective arises right in front of my eyes. It is, in fact, very fortuitous that Merula is here. Now I don't have to risk being the first one to enter, since we have no idea what waits for us on the other side. Merula doesn't seem to notice the trembling of my lips, in a desperate need to laugh. She simply walks past me, entering the door, and losing herself in the shadows.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate that girl?" Rowan says, standing up and helping Penny.

"Come on," I say. "Let's go after her."

"There won't be enough healing potions in all of Hogwarts to help Merula when I'm done with her," Penny follows me, rubbing her sore arm.

We walk past the door and it immediately closes behind us. I feel Rowan's hand pulling the sleeve of my sweater. The inside is entirely immersed in darkness and it's very, very cold.

" _Lumos!_ " I cast, and Rowan and Penny do the same.

"Merlin's beard!" Rowan says, bursting out in laughter. "This is too good!"

"Dang! I wish I had my Polaroid right now," I giggle, amazed at the scene that's unrolling in front of us.

Merula is standing right in the middle of the cold room, with a lot of ice stalagmites and stalactites all around her, and her half her body is stuck in a big piece of ice.

"The ice st-stuck m-me t-to the f-floor," she trembles. "It's s-spreading o-over m-me."

I bite my lip, feeling an awful sensation when I realize that it's the same ice from my dreams. I look at Rowan and Penny, who still have amused smiles on their lips.

"Get m-me o-out of here!" Merula cries and I see a single tear freezing on her cheek.

"Athena!" Rowan exclaims, and I see a block of ice forming neat her feet, growing so fact that it reaches her hips in no time.

" _Flipendo!_ " I shout without thinking, aiming at the enormous crystal of ice.

Thankfully, the ice breaks in a thousand pieces, releasing Rowan's body. However, the same happens with Penny, who looks at us with widened eyes.

"H-help," she shivers.

" _Flipendo!_ " Rowan and I yell in unison, setting her free too.

"S-screw her!" Merula cries. "S-save m-m-me!"

It's very tempting to just go away and leave Merula there, but the ice has already spread to her neck, and only her desperate face is exposed, staring at us with agony. Rowan looks at me, clearly unwilling to help Merula.

"It's the right thing to do," I say, begrudgingly raising my wand and aiming at Merula. " _Flipendo!_ "

The ice cracks and shatters, knocking Merula to the ground. Thousands of pieces of ice surround her and she looks at me with wide eyes.

"Ouch," she moans. "It hurt."

"Not enough, apparently," Rowan rolls her eyes. "Athie, I hope you're aware that in no alternative universe she'd do the same for you."

"Doesn't matter. Let's get out of here," I say, but when we turn around to leave, the ice is covering the entire door, trapping us inside."

" _Tatti!_ " Rowan shouts. "What now?"

"Let's all cast _Flipendo_ together," I say. "You too, Merula."

The four of us raise our wands to the door, casting the spell at the same time, but not a single crack seems to appear on the thick ice wall.

"It's didn't work!" Merula complains. "We're going to die!"

"No one is going to die!" Penny exclaims, grabbing a potion flask from her jacket pocket. "Now let's see if I'm really good with potions."

She opens the flask and drinks the entire content at once. However, nothing seems to happen.

"Step back," she commands, lifting her fist and giving an absurdly strong punch on the ice, that is immediately ripped apart.

The door is finally free, and we can rush to the corridor, but something makes Rowan stop and hold my arm.

"Do you see that?" she says, pointing at some very curious writing on the wall, that's sparkling in icy blue, right next to the door.

"Do you know what it means?" I ask, noticing that the writing is formed by a lot of different runes and symbols.

"No, but I'll find out," she says. "Let's go. I have eidetic memory."

The corridor, thankfully, is still desert. We don't stop until we reach the Clock Tower balcony, that is located on the same floor. It's far enough away for us to catch our breaths and so no one can see us doing suspicious things.

"What was that?" Rowan asks, pointing to the empty flask on Penny's hand.

"Strengthening Solution", she giggles. "It was awesome."

"I should've known better than to follow you idiots," Merula spits. "I'll find the _real_ Cursed Vaults myself."

She makes a mention to walk away, but Penny quickly grabs her by the neck and presses her against the wall. Merula's feet shake a few inches from the ground and she tries to release Penny's hand from around her throat.

"Not so fast, _princess_ ," Penny says, clearly still under the effect of the potion. "If you ever mention what happened to anyone-"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Merula hisses, still trying to escape Penny's grip.

"Actually, that's exactly what I think," Penny smirks, releasing Merula.

Merula runs away as fast as a racing unicorn, leaving us alone in the balcony.

"Do you think that wasn't really a Cursed Vault?" Rowan asks. "The ice itself appeared to be cursed. Maybe it could be protecting a Vault."

"Or escaping from it," Penny says. "I mean, if the ice is coming out from somewhere, it might actually start spreading to the corridor and, eventually, to the whole school."

"Maybe that's why Professor Snape was so concerned," I suggest.

"Deciphering those runes might give us a clue," Rowan says, looking pensive. "Either way, it seems like your dreams were some sort of prophecy, Athena."

"I hope not," I say. "I dreamt of the ice encasing all Hogwarts."

"Well, we'll figure it out," she says. "Let's go back to our common rooms before anyone notices we're going suspicious things."

We rush to the West Towers as Penny rushes to Hufflepuff's common room. The walk is long and cold, but it seems to be even colder after we left the cursed room. All I wand is a warm bath and some peace and quiet. Rowan, shivering next to me, seems to be desiring the same.

When we finally reach the bronze eagle, there's someone waiting for us.

"Chester!" I gasp.

By the look in his eyes, he doesn't seem happy at all to see us.


	14. Year 1: Chapter 14 - Ice Queens

**A/N:** Hi, guys! How are you? I'm currently re-editing these chapters to correct any incoherences, but if you spot anything wrong, please let me know. Also, if you have any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen – Ice Queens**

* * *

It was the right thing to do. Being our Prefect and having so many responsibilities, it's only obvious that Chester would put his badge above everything. Not that I'm thinking that he did it to prove something or to show that he's a good Prefect. The fact the he did it proves that he's a good Prefect, because it's clear that, above everything, he was concerned about our safety.

I suppose that life isn't only the rise, but the fall as well. Balance must be kept, and Chester only did his job. It's no use to be mad at him, because, after all, I know he cares about me. He taught me how to duel, after all.

All I know is that I'm not dragging Rowan and Penny down the abyss with me. They were the truest of friends, helping me with that stupid quest that led us to more doubts and questions. If there's something that I'm grateful, is for having them as my friends. I'm thinking of them as I walk to the courtyard, with a terrible weight on my chest, and the righteous words of Chester rushing through my mind.

"I told you it's my job to know what's going on in Ravenclaw."

"I went alone," I told him.

The plan, as everything surrounding it, was flawed.

"Athena!" I hear Rowan's voice as she rushes in my direction. "I wanted to talk to you before your meeting with Dumbledore."

"I'm sorry, Row," I sigh. "But I can't ask him if he'll hire you as a professor someday."

"It's not about that," she says, smirking. "Although, if the opportunity presents itself, that would be really cool. But no. It's about the code we saw scrawled on the wall. I found an obscure book about ciphers. I think I know what it means."

I stop walking. "That's amazing, Row! What does it say?"

" _The Ice Knight stands guard past the Vanished Stairs_ ," she whispers, secretively.

"I saw stairs and a suit of armour in one of my dreams," I remind her.

"It's obviously ominous, and since we found it in the cursed ice, it must be connected to the Cursed Vaults."

I stand there, unaware of what to think. All I wanted was to find my brother and make things right again, but it only seemed to lead to more curses and more problems. I was already getting used – while walking to talk to Professor Dumbledore – to the fact that I'd have to abort this mission, but Rowan's words made me wonder where those words could lead us.

"We can talk about this later," I smile sadly, resting my hand on her shoulder.

"I want to go with you," she says. "You didn't act alone. I don't want you to get punished because of something we did together."

"I know," I say. "Penny said the same. However, we only went looking for the Vaults because of me. Because I wanted to find my brother."

"Want," she corrects me. "We won't give up, Athie."

* * *

It's dark in the courtyard. The sky is dotted with stars and Professor Dumbledore is wearing long robes that look just like the sky above him. With the exception, perhaps, that his robes are bright purple with orange trim. He's waiting for me near the fountain, holding his hands behind his back, absentmindedly staring at the sky.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Lockhart," he says with the kindest of voices.

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore," I say. "I-"

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he says, staring at the stars.

"Sir?" I raise my head, looking at the sky, wondering what this conversation is all about.

"The quiet night, the crisp air," he says, softly. "It truly puts your troubles into perspective, doesn't it?"

It doesn't, but I don't say that. I simply look at him, his half-moon glasses framing his bright eyes, the long white hair falling like a cascade over the back of his vests, and the white beard glistening under the moonlight.

"I oftentimes come here when I need to make an important decision," he confesses with a smile.

I swallow hard. "My Prefect said you wanted to see me. To discuss everything that I've done wrong this year," I say, a throbbing pain deep inside my heart. "And about what happened with the cursed ice."

"You are expecting a lecture, but I feel as though you want to ask me about something," he says, raising his white brows at me.

I look down, staring at the yellow flowers that are growing between the blocks of stones on the ground. The only thing that seems to cross my mind is Jake.

"Why was my brother expelled?" I ask him. "He refused to talk about it… and then he disappeared."

"That is a long and complicated story, Athena," I look at him, surprise for hearing him call me by my first name. "I was intrigued by your brother, but he gave me no option. Even _I_ don't funny understand what let do his fall. Something tells me you'll learn more in your following years here."

"I'm not going to be expelled?" I gasp.

"You have made many, many mistakes this year," he says, smoothly. "But you have also demonstrated bravery, compassion and resourcefulness. You show great promise."

I blink a few times, not believing what I'm hearing. After Chester's lecture about my recklessness, irresponsibility, lack of judgement, among other things, I wasn't expecting to hear such kind words from my Headmaster.

"All things considered, I believe you have earned one hundred points to Ravenclaw," he winks at me and my jaw drops. "But in your years to come, you must be mindful of how your decisions impact others."

One hundred freaking points.

Unbelievable.

"Remember, Athena," he continues, his eyes going back to the starry sky above us. "It's not our abilities that show who we truly are. It's our choices."

 _Our choices…_

Dumbledore's words follow me back to my common room, where Rowan is waiting for me, carefully finishing an essay, lying on the blue couch in front of the fireplace.

"What happened?" she stands up, dread in her eyes. "I shouldn't have let you say you worked alone. I should've-"

"Row," I say, making a gesture for her to stop speaking. "It's cool. Nothing happened."

"What do you mean?" she asks with a frown.

I sit next to her and begin telling everything about my short and awkward conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Her dark eyes can't get any wider as I mention the points that I have earned for being so irresponsible. Though I have said it out loud, I'm not even believing it myself.

* * *

"ONE HUNDRED POINTS?" Chester shouts during the next breakfast, while I'm staring the immense quantity of sapphires inside our hourglass. It's so much fuller than the other three. "Bloody Dumbledore! Well, he's a genius, so he must know what he's doing," he glances at me with a frown. "Impressive… for a reckless brat."

"No," I say, smiling at him. "For a resourceful brat."

Of course, all my actions didn't go unpunished. All the professors seem to be laying unforgiving eyes at me, wondering what my next stupidity will be. I try not to give any attention to is, focusing on my assignments and studies, performing better than ever in Potions, for the complete dismay of Professor Snape, who was obviously waiting for an excuse to take points from Ravenclaw, now that we beat Slytherin on the House Cup.

The rest of the school year goes on smoothly, like the spring breeze. Except for Merula's deadly stares, probably wishing she had been the one to get one hundred points, everything seems well. I still don't know how everything happened, to be honest. I was so sure that Professor Dumbledore would give me a lecture, that his award completely surprised me.

Penny also seems to be exultant, even though Hufflepuff is third on the House Cup. She doesn't seem to care, though. If anything, she now seems even happier around Rowan and I, and it gives me an immensurable joy that now I have such great friends. Not bad for someone who could swear that would spend all seven school years friendless…

* * *

It's a nice warm night on June 13th, and I'm heading back with Rowan to the Great Hall for dinner, when she stops me with a secretive smile on her lips. From the corner of my eyes I see Penny rushing in our direction.

"Did you give it already?" she asks Rowan.

"No, not yet," Rowan answers. "I was waiting for you."

"What are you girls up to?" I ask, raising a brow.

"Well," Penny says, making a gesture to Rowan.

"Happy birthday, Athena," Rowan says, grabbing a parchment from her robes and handing it to me.

I look at them in complete surprise. I unroll the parchment and its content is the best thing in the world: a moving drawing of Rowan, Penny and I, sitting in a big throne of ice, crowns in our heads, and Merula kneeling in front of us, repeating "I am not worthy" over and over again.

"Guys," I say, a tear of joy coming down my eye. "You are the best."

"No, Athena," Rowan says with a smile. " _We_ are the best. Hogwarts' true ice queens."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," I say, giving them a big hug.

* * *

It saddens me when the last day of June finally arrives, bringing with it the Leaving Feast. I feel bitter, because I'll spend all summer away from Rowan, Penny and Ben, but also delighted, because the entire Great Hall is decorated with the bronze and blue of Ravenclaw.

Rowan and Penny's drawing is already inside my trunk, ready to be placed in my corkboard at home. Well, at my grandparents' house. I suppose it will feel like home after a while.

"At last," Professor Dumbledore's voice fills the room, everyone's heads turn to face him, and a sudden silence falls over us. "Another school year has ended. I hope everyone succeeded in the final exams and I wish the most blissful summer to every one of you. And now it's time for another House Cup Ceremony. In fourth place, with six hundred in seventy points, it's Gryffindor!"

I see Ben joining his fellow Gryffindors in a round of applause, though their Prefect, Angelica, seems to be a big disappointed.

"In third place, with six hundred and ninety-five points, Hufflepuff!"

Penny stands up, next to Tonks, and applaud the great job of her house.

"In second, with seven hundred and seventy points, the house Slytherin!"

Merula isn't among the ones that are clapping. She's sitting at the edge of the table, far from her classmates, looking rather sad and defeated. I know it should bring joy to my heart, but it makes me feel sorry for her instead. I shake my head, erasing these conflicted thoughts.

"And finally," Professor Dumbledore says with a bright smile. "Ravenclaw, with eight hundred and fifty points. Ravenclaw wins the House Cup!"

It's the biggest round of applause so far, with Chester screaming at the top of his lungs, and the tables of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor joining us in our celebration. Slytherin's table, tough, is completely silent.

I join the Frog Choir for our last performance of the year, and we all hug our fellow seventh year companions, who won't be a part of the choir anymore. Andy puts his hands on my shoulders and places a kiss on the top of my head.

"Thank you for helping us win the Cup, Athena," he says. "You'll be a great witch someday."

I join Rowan to eat and from Ravenclaw's table I can see that Professor Snape is staring at me with profound distrust. I'm not sure exactly what in those raven eyes that make me feel so uneasy. It's like I've done something incredibly wrong. Rephrasing that, it's like I've done _another_ thing incredibly wrong.

* * *

The ride back to London is quiet that night. Rowan carelessly sleeps with her head on my lap, and her black hair falls everywhere. A sudden opening of the door makes me move a little too fast, but Rowan just snores and continues to sleep.

"Hey," Ben says in almost a whisper. "I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me."

"My pleasure, Ben," I smile. "That's what friends are for."

"I guess I won't have to hide in the Artefact Room anymore," he giggles. "Thanks again, Athena."

I smile softly as he closes the door, leaving me alone with Rowan again. Though I'm worried, I'm also at peace. My first year at Hogwarts was better than I had anticipated, but it was also a challenge. I look out the window, wondering what the following years will have in store for me and if I'll be able to make it.

I lean my head against the window and close my eyes, thinking about how fortunate I am after all for having such great friends. I think of Rowan, Penny and Ben, and my smile widens. Though I'm still hurting with Jake's disappearance, I'll never forget him or give up on him, and the fact that my wonderful friends are willing to go with me to the ends of the world to find him, brings an immense joy to my heart.

 _It's our choices…_

From behind the darkness of my closed lids, there's only one thing I see:

 _Jacob._


	15. Year 2: Chapter 1 - Trouble is a Friend

**Introduction:** Hi, everyone! Welcome back to Athena's second year of trouble and magic! I wanna thank you all so, so much for all the love and support and I hope you enjoy these following chapters. Please, let me know if there are any inconsistences or misspelling, and I'll be sure to correct it. This time I actually made a cover for this fanfic, instead of the simple image I had on before. If anyone is interested, I make these avatars in Rinmaru Games; they have some awesome avatar creators there. This time I want to know what your favorite Hogwarts teacher is: mine are Snape and Lupin. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter One – Trouble is a Friend**

Summertime at Lockhart Gardens is more peaceful than I anticipated. The heat is relatively mild in here, with the breeze coming from the sea and the shadows of the big trees. From my bedroom window I can see the ocean, the same electric blue as my eyes. The waves break merciless on the rocks in the little private beach behind the house.

The only visitors around here are grandma's clients, who come every single day to order or buy some potions. After grandma retired from St. Mungus, she began her own potions business, using the ingredients she grows in the greenhouse and brewing everything in her perfectly organized potions room.

Grandpa has been really busy the entire summer, working on the sequel of his novel. He's also retired, but from the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry, and now he's a bestselling author. He even named one of his characters after me, the mighty Athena, a powerful sorceress who uses a time turner to go back to the past and prevent her twin sister from being murdered. It actually _kinda_ sounds like me.

I managed to get a healthy tan from spending almost every day at the small beach, sitting on the sand, reading every book about potions and spells I could get my hands on. Grandma and grandpa have quite a collection of very interesting and useful books at home, so it was perfect to keep myself entertained.

I've been exchanging letters with Rowan, Penny and Ben all summer long and even sent birthday presents to Penny, whose birthday was on the middle of July, and Rowan, whose birthday was in August. Penny answered me saying she absolutely loved the book I sent her, one of the many books grandpa wrote: The Potions Master. For some reason, the title made me think of Professor Snape.

For Rowan I also sent a book, but from a very funny section of the bookstore I visited with grandma: How to Jinx Your Enemies and Hex People, by Ira Irving. She wrote me, saying she laughed so hard while reading it, and in such a schizophrenic way that her mother thought she was having a stroke.

I look at the drawing they made for me, carefully pinned at my cork board, along with a checklist of everything I have to pack for school and the Polaroid I smuggled from my brother's nightstand before going to my first year at Hogwarts.

I've been having way less nightmares since we managed to escape from the cursed ice. Grandma and grandpa seem to know nothing about it; Dumbledore only sent a letter to my parents, but the only letter I got from my dad all summer long was only wishing me a happy birthday, which was in June, along with two book sets, one being the trilogy of Lord of the Rings – which I devoured in just a few days – and the other being Anne of Green Gables. He mentioned nothing about my obvious recklessness or the fact that I'm doing the exact same irresponsible thing that led to Jake's disappearance. He seems to be too busy taking care of mom's well-being, especially being more than a year since Jake went missing.

Jake would be turning seventeen in October, but I don't think he'll be back in time for his birthday. He wasn't in his sixteenth, and I confess I'm not sure when I'll ever see him again.

I'm trying my best not to think of him, lying on my bed, reading Anne of Green Gables while The Butterbeer Experience is playing some cheesy love song on the wireless. I can smell grandpa's tobacco coming from the open window; a quick look through it and I see him strolling along the stone walkway, heading to the long ramp that leads to the beach. Probably looking for more inspiration.

I get up, leaving the book over the bed, and sitting by my dressing table, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I don't seem very different from last year; being twelve didn't make much of a difference in me. I am a little bit taller, but I still have the same waist long wavy light blonde hair, the same electric blue eyes, and the same porcelain skin; which is a little bit tanner right now. Grandpa keeps saying I am losing my innocent childish eyes, but I don't really see it. He says I now look a lot like one of his favorite muggle actresses, Grace Kelly. He spent a lot of time watching her movies while he and grandma took care of me in our house in Sunderland.

I sigh, wondering how Rowan is feeling now that she's twelve too. She mentioned in one of her letters that her parents promised her to the son of her father's best friend, a boy named Dev, who she has never met. Their fathers have been friends ever since they were kids, apparently, and even been at Hogwarts together, but Dev's father moved to New York with his wife and Dev studies at Ilvermorny.

 _I can't believe my parents will follow this stupid Indian tradition! We don't even live in India for Merlin's sake! At least I can date a few guys at Hogwarts before turning seventeen and marrying Dev. I wonder if they'll allow you to be my maid of honor, instead of my awful cousin Lavanya. I'll be very surprised if she doesn't become a stripper, having a name like that._

Rowan seems to be pretty angry, and I felt bad that I couldn't quite understand what she is feeling. My family doesn't have any weird traditions regarding marriage. My mother married a muggle-born, after all, but my dad decided that we should keep my mother's surname, instead of his, which is Hodges. I don't really think that Annette Lockhart sounds any better than Christopher Hodges, but dad said an important name takes us places. Except the only place the Lockhart name took me so far was Trouble Land.

Grandma is avoiding speaking about my mom and it makes me think if she's actually getting worse. I'm trying not to feel bitter about it, but I actually miss her a lot. And dad. And Jake. These past months have been relatively lonely, with the exception of the days grandma asked me to help her brew a few potions. So apart from mealtimes, I've been spending all summer by myself.

Thankfully, Aunt Anise didn't come over this summer. Gil and she are travelling around the world and she even wrote a letter to grandma, saying how mesmerized girls from all corners of the world feel when they see Gil. It kinda made me want to vomit, especially because Gil had people thinking I'd be as conceited as him when I first went to Hogwarts. Apart from the blonde hair and blue eyes, I am nothing like him. I hope.

I look at my Merlin's miniature, made of porcelain, which Jake bought for me when he first went to Hogsmeade. I tried my best to turn this room into _my_ room, putting Princess Leia's poster on the wall – the saying _May the force be with you_ under her pretty face –, a poster of Hermia Hunt – Montrose Magpies' keeper – flying around the goalposts, her smiling face resembling a lot a young Jane Fonda. There's also a big painting of an orange lily, which was already here when I arrived, but there's no readable signature, with the exception of two small S's in the bottom right.

Grandma even left a vase full of lilacs over my dresser, to always keep my room smelling of spring. I appreciate her efforts of trying to make this my home, but I can't help but miss my _actual home_ , where I could walk into Jake's bedroom and listen him playing guitar.

" _And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me_ ," I hum, staring at Jake's happy face on the Polaroid. " _Shine on until tomorrow… let it be_."

Twilight moves in his improvised perch, which is the top of my canopy bed. He was sound asleep, but my singing woke him up. He winks those big yellow eyes at me and goes back to sleep. It is nice having him around when he's not out delivering letters or hunting squirrels in the gardens. There's something about his freakishly huge owlish body that makes me feel strangely secure.

I spend the last days of summer vacations wandering around the gardens, reading under the trees and studying. After last year's problems, I want to start my second year at Hogwarts with the right foot, being utterly prepared.

Grandma and grandpa take me to the Diagon Alley on August 30th to get my new school supplies. I buy more crystal phials, ingredients for my potions, the second-year books, and a new set of robes now that I'm a bit taller, and more treats for Twilight.

Right when I'm walking by a second-hand bookshop, right next to Florean Fortescue's, I spot a raven-haired girl reading a huge dusty book, between the jam-packed shelves.

 _Rowan._

"Grandma, grandpa, is it okay if I enter to say hi to Rowan?" I ask them.

"Sure, pudding," grandpa winks and me and strolls with grandma to Rosa Lee's Teabag.

The bookstore is nothing like Flourish & Blotts; it is very dusty and smells like Hogwarts' library. Rowan is wearing a dark blue blouse and jeans, and her long jet-black hair is tied in a messy bun.

"Well, well, well," I say, approaching her without her noticing. "If it isn't Rowan Khanna, one of the mighty ice queens."

She looks at me with startled eyes, but then her expression relaxes when she sees that it's just me.

"Your highness," she says, taking an amused bow. "Do you happen to know where the third queen is?"

"I haven't seen her yet, your grace," I say. "But we'll probably meet her soon, when our carriage arrives."

Rowan giggles, her laughter sounding like a lullaby to me. I missed her so much that I can barely contain myself.

"Have you bought all your supplies already?" she asks me, seeing the big bags I'm carrying.

"Yeah," I say. "And a bunch of unnecessary stuff too."

"Me too!" she exclaims. "I got candy _galore_ at Sugarplum's and I can't wait to eat their new caramels."

When we finally leave the bookstore, Rowan is carrying two bags full of old books. Her parents are eating ice cream at Florean's, but Rowan walks by without looking at them.

"We're not speaking," she tells me. "Not since they said I'm obliged to marry Dev."

"What if he's a nice guy?" I ask her.

"It doesn't matter," she says. "I want to be free to make my own love choices."

"But Rowan, you don't even have love choices," I giggle. "For now, at least."

" _Well_ …" she blushes.

"Oh. My God," I say, stopping in front of her. "Who?"

She looks at both sides before getting closer to me, in whispers.

" _I kinda have a crush,_ " she says. " _On Bill Weasley_."

" _Bill Weasley?_ " I exclaim.

" _Shhh…_ "

"You mean Charlie's brother?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says, her cheeks turning bright red. "I spent all summer thinking about that ginger Romeo."

"Ginger Romeo?" I hear grandpa's voice from behind us. "Are you girls talking about boys?"

" _Grandpa!_ " I say, feeling my cheeks burning. And I'm not even the one in love with Bill! "No, we're talking about a book."

Worst. Lie. Ever.

" _Hmmm_ ," he says, smirking at us.

 _How embarrassing._

Right when we get back home, I start packing all my stuff to go to King's Cross on the 1st. I'm already wearing grandpa and grandma's birthday gift: a gorgeous ring with a round turquoise gemstone. If I didn't have a good dose of common sense, I'd probably be a spoiled brat like Gil.

When we cross the barrier to get to the platform 9¾, I'm feeling my heart full of hope and expectations, as I push the trolley with my trunk and a majestic Twilight in his big cage.

"Agatha!" a beautiful woman with long chocolate hair rushes to my grandma, a big smile on her face. Next to her is a familiar face: the pink-haired girl, Tonks.

"Dromeda!" grandma says. "How are you, dear?"

"Happy now that Nymphadora is going to her second year," she says.

" _Mom!_ " Tonks shrieks. "I already told you to call me Tonks!"

"Rubbish, Nymphadora," her mom says. "How are you, Agatha? Still working with potions? I'll be sure to stop by and place an order with you."

When I hear the high whistle from the train, I feel grandpa's arms around me, holding me in a tight hug.

"I'm gonna miss you, sunshine," he says, kissing me on my forehead. "Please, write. Okay?"

"I promise," I tell him, taking a last sniff on his robes, to remember the scent of his vanilla tobacco all year long. Grandma rushes to hug me too, but she smells of one of her homemade perfumes; of freesia and magnolia.

I wave at them when I'm sitting with Rowan in one of the last wagons. Though I really miss home and I will truly miss Lockhart Gardens, it will be refreshing to go back to Hogwarts, to another year of knowledge, friendship and, possibly, trouble.


	16. Year 2: Chapter 2 - The Vanished Lion

**Introduction:** Hello, everyone! I hope you're all enjoying the story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I wanna thank you all so much for all the sweet messages! The song performed by the Frog Choir in his chapter is actually a song by a band called **Celtic Woman** , and the song is **The Last Rose of Summer**. If you have any recommendations of good songs for the choir, please let me know in the comments. My next question for you guys is: what's your favorite subject? Mine are Herbology and Potions 3. Again, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Two – The Vanished Lion**

"Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore opens his arms in a welcoming gesture. "I hope we all have a year full of achievements, but before we start our delicious feast, Professor Flitwick and the Frog Choir prepared a very special song for us to start the school year with the best of energies."

I've been practicing this song during the summer, singing it at the beach, in the gardens, or for Twilight while he looked at me with his huge intrigued yellow eyes.

I follow Professor Flitwick and the rest of the choir to our assigned places, missing a few members, now that they graduated. I can't believe I'll be a part of the choir auditions this year. The frog I'm holding is the same I held all year long during our performances last year. It is big and lumpy, and its name is Jujube. Why? I don't know.

" _So soon may I follow when friendships decay,_ " I sing along with my companions. " _And from love's shining circle the gems drop away. When true hearts lie withered and fond ones are flown. Oh, who would inhabit this bleak world alone?_ "

A round of applauses from all tables makes me feel welcome again, at this huge beautiful castle which has become my second home. Or third, I don't know. I sit next to Rowan at the Ravenclaw table, enjoying our feast composed of the most mouth-watering foods: roast beef, carrot puree, pumpkin soup, turkey legs with herbs… By the end of the meal I am so full that I can barely walk.

It is nice to be in the dorm with all my roommates again: Rowan, as usual, already lay on my bed, probably waiting for some midnight gossip; Tulip has cut her hair, now in a shoulder length, but it's still a beautiful reddish ginger color; Piper seems to be tanner than ever, having spent all summer surfing with her father; Addison, Ruby and Zoe are already asleep, having eaten their weight in chocolate pie; and Emma is telling Adaline, Aria, Nicole and Zelda about the boy she hooked up with all summer long.

It makes me think of Rowan and her crush on Bill, and the fact that I haven't had a crush on anyone yet.

Wonder if this will change anytime soon…

" _Oh my_ ," Rowan says squeezing my arm while we're heading to our Charms class on the very next morning. "There he is. How do I look?"

I look at Bill, his luscious ginger hair flowing in the wind, his sky blue eyes having something of a dreamer in them. I can't judge Rowan for liking him; he's actually very handsome.

"You look great, Row," I say, though she actually looks the same as always.

Bill walks by us and flashes a friendly smile in our direction. Rowan immediately stops walking, watching him walk away with her eyes glistering like she's seeing a baby dolphin.

"He's so dreamy," she says. "Did you see the way he looked at me? We're totally getting married."

We spend the first Charms lesson remembering and practicing the spells we learned last year: _Incendio, Wingardium leviosa, Lumos, Diffindo, Alohomora_ and the very funny _Tarantallegra_. The other spells we are supposed to practice in our free study times, though I don't think I'll be having problems with _Lumos Solem, Colloportus, Reparo, Flipendo_ or _Spongify_.

Ben isn't among his fellow Gryffindors, which makes me wonder what would make him skip the first class. But then again, I don't remember seeing him at the feast as well.

The library is empty when we get there after lunch. We have the rest of our Monday free and apparently we're the only two mad enough to spend it among dusty books.

I grab my Standard Book of Spells and start reading about everything we're going to learn this year. The spell _Immobulus_ seems to be really useful, especially if Merula will continue her reign of horror.

" _Interesting,_ " Rowan whispers, scratching her chin while reading something from Hogwarts, A History.

" _What is interesting?_ " I murmur.

" _I found this chapter about Hogwarts' stairs,_ " she tells me. " _Apparently there are a hundred and forty-two stairs in this castle, but some of these stairs are_ hidden _._ "

" _Hidden?_ "

" _You know, invisible, behind a tapestry, things like that,_ " she says. " _It will take a long time to search them all._ "

" _Search them all for what?_ "

" _The Vanishing Stairs, remember? The one from the code._ "

" _Row, I didn't think we would continue looking for the Vaults after what happened in May._ "

" _Nonsense_ ," she says. " _Of course we will. We can ask Ben and Penny for help."_

" _Row,_ " I say with a frown. " _Do you remember seeing Ben at the feast yesterday?"_

 _"No,_ " she says, trying to remember. " _Neither today at Charms._ "

" _I know_ ," I tell her. " _Do you think he's okay?_ "

" _We can check at the Hospital Wing,_ " she says. _"Maybe he's sick or something._ "

We walk past Madam Pince, who's organizing a shelf very meticulously. She looks at us with her dark angry eyes, like our presence is somehow disturbing the books.

While we're getting out of the door, we bump into a familiar blondie.

"Hi, queens," Penny says with a smile. "What are you up to?"

"Hey Penny," I say. "We're going to the Hospital Wing."

"Why? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. We'll check if Ben is there," Rowan says.

"Is he sick? He missed Potions class today," Penny tells us, her face showing a bit of concern.

" _Really?_ He missed Charms too! And the feast yesterday," I tell her.

"What could have happened? He seemed fine yesterday on the train", Penny says.

We rush to the Hospital Wing, Penny right behind us. The place is completely empty; no students on the beds, no one moaning or crying. Madam Pomfrey has enchanted a broom to sweep the floor, not that I think it could get any cleaner.

"Madam Pomfrey," I say. "Did Ben Copper come here?

"No, dear," she says. "No injured students so far, blessed be Merlin."

I start to feel a deep uneasiness inside my chest. What if something happened to Ben? What is he's hurt? What if Merula did something to him?

"What are gonna do?" Rowan asks while we walk out of the Hospital Wing. "Should we tell anyone?"

"Let's talk to McGonagall," I tell her. "She's the head of Gryffindor. She'll know what to do."

We take a short walk to the Transfiguration classroom, but unfortunately Professor McGonagall is still teaching. Rowan and I wait on the outside, a worried look in our faces. Penny, on the other hand, has class right now. But she makes us promise that we'll tell her everything later during dinner.

It seems like it will be quite a long wait, so Rowan and I lean against the wall, staring through the window.

"You look worried, Lockhart," the most displeasing voice addresses me, and when I turn to face her, her violet sunken eyes show a glimpse of venom.

"What do you want, Merula?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

"I was just wondering whether you'd had any luck finding that coward Mudblood friend of yours," she says with a smirk.

I don't know if it is the tone of her voice or just her ugly evil face, but something awakens inside me. All my feelings of concern vanish, being replaced by pure rage. I grab her by her collar, pressing her against the wall, a murderous stare in my eyes.

"Athena!" Rowan exclaims.

" _Do you know what happened to Ben?_ " I hiss, my face inches away from Merula's.

Her reaction isn't quite that I anticipated. She doesn't show fright or surprise; her face is serene and there's a mischievous smile on her lips.

"I know more than you," she says. "I know that sometimes even when people are missing they're exactly where they're supposed to be."

" _What are you talking about?_ " I say, enunciating every single word, pressing her harder against the wall.

"There are things happening at this school that you could never begin to understand, Lockhart."

"Are you talking about the Vaults? Did Ben go looking for them? Did _you_ force him to?"

"You'll learn everything soon enough," she smiles. "Unless, of course, you die first."

I release her from my grip, closing my fists in an attempt of not kicking her in the gut.

"Stay away from me, Merula."

"As you wish, Lockhart. But don't say I didn't warn you."

The Transfiguration classroom door opens and a wave of students walk out, laughing and talking about unimportant stuff. When the wave dissipates, Merula is nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell was that?" Rowan asks me with concern in her eyes.

"I don't know," I shrug. "I was fine, but then I felt like punching her."

"Are you feeling okay?" she puts the back of her hand in my forehead. "This is so not like you."

"Is everything alright?" I hear Professor McGonagall's voice as she comes to the door, the same severe expression on her face.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor," Rowan says. "We're worried about Ben Copper. We haven't seen him at the feast and he didn't show up for class today."

"Gryffindor's Prefect already made me aware of Mr. Copper's situation," she says, simply. "Mr. Filch is currently looking for him. Did you see him on the Hogwarts Express?"

"No, but Penny did. She said he seemed fine," I say.

"Have you noticed him behaving strangely at the end of last year?" Professor McGonagall asks.

"No," Rowan comments. "I mean, Ben has always been a bit odd, but nothing out of ordinary."

"I wonder if your encounter with the cursed ice has something to do with his disappearance," she raises a brow at me. "Did you find anything in that room? Any _clue_ or _warning_ about potential threats beyond the room itself?"

A lot of thoughts rush through my mind in those few seconds. Lying to a professor doesn't seem like a wise choice; if something has happened to Ben and if it has something to do with the Vaults, the professors are more qualified to do something about it than Rowan and me.

"Yes, Professor," I admit. "I found a secret message. It mentioned an Ice Knight and Vanished Stairs," I act like no one else was involved. After all, I told Chester I acted alone.

"Hmmm", she says. "Not sure what this means, but I'll sure communicate this to Professor Dumbledore," she enters her classroom, closing the door behind her, leaving us alone in the corridor.

Rowan looks at me with concern, and I can't help but to feel a heavy sensation in my chest. What if Ben is missing and it's my entire fault?

"Rowan," I say. "What if Ben went after the Cursed Vaults? What if he's trying to prove he's not a coward?"

"That would make sense," she says. "Given all the bullying he suffers from being afraid of everything."

"What are we going to do?" I ask, feeling desperation building inside of me.

"Stressing won't make Ben appear out of nowhere, Athie," Rowan places both of her hands on my shoulders. Her raven eyes stare deep into mine. "Now think. Is there anywhere Ben would go? Anywhere he could be hiding?"

I look at the window, but not to the outside. Instead, I look at my worried complexion in the glass, trying to remember anything, anything at all. I squint my eyes to my reflection. _Come on, Athena, think._

" _The Artifact Room_ ," I whisper.

"What?"

"On the train back to London, Ben said something about hiding in the Artifact Room," I tell her.

"It is right upstairs," she says, taking me by my hand and pulling me to the staircase.

The Artifact Room is a small dusty cubicle, with a lot of cabinets, closets and chests, scrolls everywhere, along with old books, some statues and a lot of other curious objects.

"Ben is not here," Rowan sighs, hopeless.

"Maybe he left a note," I tell her, opening every single door I can get my hands on. "A letter, an observation… Anything!"

We look everywhere: inside cabinets, under the rug, behind pictures, inside every single drawer… I'm beginning to lose hope, but then I stumble across a small treasure chest, lost underneath a pile of parchment rolls.

" _Alohomora!_ " I shout and the lid opens, revealing a velvety interior, and a small piece of parchment. "Your next instructions have been transfigured into a black quill, and hidden in the Gryffindor Common Room," I read, Rowan looking over my shoulder.

"Failure to follow your instructions will result in severe punishment. R.," she reads. "Who is R?"

"I don't know," I say. "But I have a bad feeling about this."

"Felix Rosier? Rubeus Hagrid? _Ar_ gus Filch?" she tries. "None of them seem like would leave such note."

" _Find the black quill_ ," I repeat. "Did Ben follow these instructions? That's why he's gone?"

"I don't know. But if it leads to the Gryffindor Common Room, maybe we should tell Angelica," she says. "She's the Prefect. She's the one who warned McGonagall. She'll know what to do."

"Right," I say. The uneasiness is replaced by a soft feeling of relief deep inside me. "Let's do this."

We run through the castle, turning corridor after corridor, feeling our breath becoming heavier as we try to avoid other students, ignoring the curious stares. We don't stop till we find Angelica, carelessly entering the Great Hall with her friends for dinner.

This is it. This is the time we'll leave the job for someone more qualified; someone who'll know what to do. Someone who is older and smarter, and will be quick to find Ben.

 _Or not._


	17. Year 2: Chapter 3 - Bloody Patience

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! Happy Valentine's Day! Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's _not_ Valentine's Day for the majority of you, but in Brazil we celebrate it on June 12th (also my dog's fourteenth birthday – Happy B-Day Snoopy!). I wanna thank you all so much for all the love and support and I hope you're liking the story. I'd like to ask you – whoever you are – to leave a message (review or private) telling me your opinion on this story. I just started year 4 on the game and I'm very suspicious of Ratepick. What do you think of her? Today I have an extremely random question for you guys: I talk a lot about tea in my story, so I wanna know your favorite tea. Mine is Riston's green tea with jasmine. 3 As you know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me. :3

 **Chapter Three – Bloody Patience**

"Absolutely not!" Angelica says, rolling her eyes. "I will not follow instructions that you randomly found in an old forsaken room. I'm sure Ben Copper isn't dumb to just go following obscure notes. _No_. This has nothing to do with his disappearance. I'm sure he'll show up anytime soon."

I stare at Angelica, unable to believe what I'm hearing. Rowan is beside me, her lips pressed in complete anguish. Angelica heads to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to her friends, eating and chatting like nothing has happened.

"Unbelievable," I shake my head. "Did you hear her? She doesn't give a damn about what happened to Ben!"

"We'll have to solve it by ourselves again," Rowan says, pulling me to Ravenclaw's table. "We'll tell everything to Penny later. Let's just eat and relax about it."

I am feeling nauseated while trying to eat, but it's no use. I leave my plate almost untouched, just randomly moving my peas from side to side, wondering where the hell Ben might be.

The nightmares return the instant I drop my head on the pillow: I'm at the same foggy staircase from previous dreams, except my mom isn't there. I am lost in the darkness, the only light being the one emanating from my wand.

" _Ben!_ " I yell, but I only hear the echoes of my voice.

" _Athena_ ," someone calls me, but it's a gentle whisper, lost in the mist. But it isn't Ben's voice.

 _Jake…_

"You look terrible," Rowan says while we're heading to breakfast. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "The same staircase again."

"I wonder if it has something to do with the Vanished Stairs," she says.

"Maybe," I say. "Maybe not. Maybe I'm just going crazy."

"Don't worry, Athena," Rowan hugs me by my neck. "We're going to find Ben. Now that we know that Angelica is completely useless."

That Tuesday morning, while McGonagall is teaching us a new spell, Rowan hits me with her elbow, so I get to pay attention. In the blackboard behind the Professor's table, is an explanation about _Reparifarge_ , the untransfiguration spell. Rowan scribbles something in a piece of parchment and hands it to me under the table.

 _We can use this spell to untransfigurate the quill_.

I stare at my own quill, black as the one in the note, and I hate Angelica for a while. How could she ignore us? We've been helping Ben since the beginning and I even dueled with him because _she_ asked! Why did she have to just ignore us like that, without even considering what we were saying?

That night, while we're going to the Astronomy Tower, Rowan pulls me by the hem of my sleeve, her stare asking me to slow down. We wait for our classmates to go ahead, and she pulls me to the back of a statue.

"I know how we can get into Gryffindor's Common Room," she says in a low-toned voice.

"How?"

"We'll be learning _Reducio_ and _Engorgio_ this year with Professor Flitwick. They're extremely dangerous spells to use on human beings, but we could use them to sneak into the Common Room and find that quill," she says.

"And how are we supposed to do this without anyone seeing?" I ask. "There are always people in there."

"There won't be," she says. "Not when the Quidditch season begins. Gryffindor lost hard to Slytherin last year, so every Gryffindor will be at the pitch to watch the match."

"Row," I frown. "But isn't the Quidditch season, like, two months from now?"

"That's the only downside," she says.

"Do you really think Ben will still be missing until November?"

"I don't know, Athie. I hope not, but let's prepare for the worst."

I am feeling way worse when we go back to our Common Room, my stomach completely twisted, a knot in my throat and a terrible will to cry. From time to time Merula's ugly face appears in my head and I feel like punching something.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_

Wednesday afternoon brings something to require my full attention. The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom is looking completely different: there are bright purple curtains, fluffy rugs on the floor, a lot of flower vases, and a ginormous, freakishly disturbing picture of my cousin Gil right next to the teacher's table.

"Good afternoon, my dear students," a familiar voice says, coming from behind the picture.

"Holy crap," I say instantly, looking at Rowan. "It's my Aunt Anise."

 _I can't believe it._

 _I can't freaking believe it._

"Oh, Athena!" Aunt Anise says with a bright smile. "How are you, dear? Excited to learn defensive magic from your very skilled auntie? Gil already knows all these spells, of course. I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up teaching at Hogwarts someday. Not that he'll have much time, now that he's getting famous."

 _Can't. Believe. It._

I don't stop saying this to myself until I leave that dreadful room, after a particularly disturbing class with my aunt talking nonstop about my cousin's great achievements, traveling around the world fighting vampires, trolls and a bunch of other rubbish stories that I am sure aren't true.

"Your cousin is really cute, Athena," Rowan says that night, lying next to me in my bed.

"Cuter than Bill?" I ask, raising a brow at her.

"No, of course not!" she says. "Bill is the cutest."

When Rowan goes back to her bed and I finally find a comfortable position to sleep, something prevents me from sleeping. At first it's on my thighs: a gentle pain, like I have muscular soreness, but then I feel it in my head, getting stronger and stronger, like it's about to explode. I feel like crying, but I don't want to wake up the girls. So I hug my legs and snuggle in bed, wishing I had more of Penny's sleeping potion.

I have puffy eyes and dark circles just like Merula when I wake up. My hair is messy, my skin is awfully pale and I feel like complete crap. Like I've been run over by a dragon or something. And it only seems to get worse as the hours fly by. I am starting to wonder if I might be dying.

I spend all my free period on Thursday lying on the grass with Rowan, letting the sun rays kiss our skin, an awful pain piercing my hips. Maybe something happened to me when we entered that room. Maybe now I am cursed and dying from the inside out.

"Let's go to the library," Rowans says, standing up and giving me the hand. "I'm going to read some more about useful spells we can use to find Ben."

I stand up, feeling an extreme weakness in my legs, though they're still kinda achy.

"Ahn," Rowan says, looking down. "Athena?"

"What?" I ask, suddenly feeling extremely irritated.

"I think you're bleeding."

I look down and feel my stomach twist when I see blood running down my legs.

"What the fuck?" I saying, not caring at all about my foul-mouthing.

"I think you should see Madam Pomfrey," she says, pulling me to the castle.

"Rowan," I say. "What the hell is happening to me?"

"That explains your awful mood this week," she says. "Threatening Merula, wanting to cry because Ben is missing, being mad at Angelica…"

"What are you talking about?" I ask, exasperated.

"You got your period, Athena," she says, turning the corridor to the Hospital Wing.

" _What?_ " I shout. "Oh, this is just _great_!"

"I know. I got mine during the summer."

"And why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to know about my adventures on Bloodland! It was awful!"

"And what am I supposed to do now? Does Madam Pomfrey has… a pad, or something?"

"Well," Rowan says. "My mom gave me this anti-hemorrhagic potion, which made me stop bleeding instantly. It tastes awful, but it's pretty amazing. I guess Madam Pomfrey might have some too."

In my short twelve years of existence, I never thought I'd end up sitting across from Madam Pomfrey, discussing all my period symptoms, my options, and having a mild sexual education lesson. I remember when Jake told me that he and dad had "the talk" and I've been waiting for mom to bring this up, but I guess I'm going to have to hear it from the school matron.

"I suppose you're too young for it right now," Madam Pomfrey continues. "But when you become sexually active, you can come to me for birth control potions. And don't look at me like that, honey. Don't think I don't know that all sorts of hocus pocus hanky panky are happening in the dark corners of this castle."

 _Hocus._

 _Pocus._

 _Hanky._

 _Panky._

 _Please, God, kill me._

"So," Rowan says while I walk with her to our dormitory to change my underwear. "How was it?"

"I think Madam Pomfrey managed to traumatize for good," I say. "She gave a potion to stop bleeding."

"Look at the bright side," Rowan says. "You'll only experiment PMS once a month for, like, the next thirty years."

"Good," I say with a frown. "So I'll be inclined to kick Merula's butt about four hundred times."

"Bloody hell, this tastes terrible," I say, drinking my pinkish potion when I start bleeding again, approximately one month after my awful sexual education lesson with Madam Pomfrey. The autumn has already fallen upon Hogwarts, bringing up all the reds and oranges and a refreshing breeze. Not that it makes me feel any better now that I know I become completely mad when I'm on my PMS.

It's the beginning of October and Ben hasn't been found yet. At night, I've been having nightmares where I find him locked inside a enormous ice cube, frozen to death, his sweet brown eyes completely lifeless.

Defense Against the Dark Arts classes with Aunt Anise are as useless as I had anticipated. I still refuse calling her Professor Lockhart or, in fact, talking to her at all. When she addresses me during the lessons, I simply smile and continue studying something completely different and far more interesting. Like Potions, for example.

We're supposed to be learning about banshees, but Aunt Anise isn't actually teaching us about them; she just keeps telling about how Gil defeated the Bandon Banshee and how he's writing about it in his new book. I'm trying my best not to roll my eyes every time she speaks, because I'm actually trying to be polite. Though I'm pretty sure that all she's saying is bullshit, since Gil is completely useless and wouldn't be able of getting rid of anything. With the exception of frizzy hair, perhaps.

I honestly don't know how I'm gonna cope with all of this; now that Ben is missing, I'm (not) learning from my hopeless Aunt, I'm going to have to drink that disgusting potion every single month and my brother still hasn't been found, it is just a matter of time until I crack.

Preferably Merula's ugly face.


	18. Year 2: Chapter 4 - The Black Quill

**Introduction:** Hey there, witches and wizards! How are you doing in this awfully cold Thursday afternoon? In Brazil, at least, is currently 2:30 p.m. and it's 12 degrees Celsius out there. How's the weather like in your country? I wanna thank you all so much for the reviews and for reading this story. You are my greatest source of inspiration and it brings me great joy to know you're enjoying it. And since I'm a very musical person when it comes to writing, I wanna know your currently favorite song. My current favorite is É O Que Me Interessa, by Lenine. It's a Brazilian song and the lyrics are breathtaking! FYI, I took a break from the game, just to wait for the other chapters to be uploaded, though it's actually very hard not to play it. But I still wanna know your theories! Anyway, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Four – The Black Quill**

The plan is flawed.

The plan is crazy.

The plan is dangerous.

And we're gonna do it.

Rowan and I revised every single spell that might be useful while we're trying to sneak into Gryffindor's Common Room. We're been practicing _Engorgio_ and _Reducio_ like the two mentals we clearly are, but not in ourselves yet. We're saving it for the big day.

The Gryffindor _versus_ Slytherin match is scheduled for Saturday, November 2nd. Each day that passes makes me feel even more nauseated and wondering if it's not best to just forget about Ben and move on with our lives.

I've been away from trouble for two whole months, doing nothing but study and win Ravenclaw a bunch of house points. Even Professor Snape isn't looking at me with wary eyes anymore. For the first time, everything seems to be in order for me.

With the obvious exception that my brother _and_ my friend are still missing. But let's not dig into it.

I'm still not very used to experiencing PMS every single month. It was pretty bad back in September and the October one wasn't good as well. And now I can't even enjoy the Halloween feast without feeling like sticking Merula's head inside a pumpkin.

Rowan doesn't seem to be bothered by it, though. Now we get to go to Madam Pomfrey's almost at the same day, but she doesn't become a psycho like I do. Instead, she just cries about how life is unfair, how she doesn't want to marry Dev and how Bill Weasley is the most handsome man in the world and never will have eyes for her.

My last class on Friday is with Aunt Anise and it's tempting to just skip it and stay in my Common Room, but I still want to have perfect attendance. When we get to class, she's not there yet. Instead, Professor Snape is standing in the front of the class, a very pleased smile on his lips.

"Your teacher will be absent for the next three weeks," he says, calmly. "Until there, I'll revise every subject for your exams."

Rowan looks at me sideways. Of course. Exams. We are completely ready. Unless we're expelled first for breaking another set of rules.

"Now," Professor Snape continues. "Which of you could summarize what a banshee is?"

I raise my hand. It's not because Aunt Anise is an awful teacher that I haven't been studying in my free time. Unless she asks just questions about Gil in the test.

"Miss Lockhart," he says, and for the first time, there's no harshness when he says my name.

"Banshees have the appearance of a woman with floor length black hair, skeletal face and green skin. A banshee's scream is fatal to the ears, somewhat like a fully grown Mandrake."

"Correct," he says, but he doesn't give me any house points for it. It's okay, though. Better him than Aunt Anise.

Aunt Anise's surname shouldn't even Lockhart, in the first place. Gil's dad is a muggle, whose surname is actually Sawyer. But I guess neither Anise nor Gilderoy Sawyer inspire any greatness. So my aunt decided to keep her maiden name and save it for her son as well. Somewhat like my dad did, except he did it because he thought it would be useful someday.

When the night falls upon the castle and I finally go to bed, all I can think is everything that is possibly going to go wrong while Rowan and I attempt to find Ben.

 _Help us, Merlin._

There're waves of gold and red, and of green and silver on the Saturday morning. Everyone is getting ready to watch the first Quidditch match of the year, discussing probable results, making bets and arguing about which player is better.

Rowan and I, on the other side, are panting with apprehension, since she's about to cast a possibly dangerous spell at me.

 _This is a bad idea._

 _Dear lord, this is_ really _a bad idea._

 _I'm gonna die and Rowan will go to Azkaban._

"Alright," Rowan says, pointing the want at me. "Are you ready?"

"Of course not!" I shout. "But do it at once, Row!"

"Okay," she says. " _Reducio!_ "

I close my eyes when the spells hits me, but I feel nothing happening. I open my eyes, only to find myself facing a huge freaking spider.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" I yell. "Rowan!"

Rowan seems to be several feet taller, like a giant or a titan. I, on the other hand, am the size of a spider, which is staring at me with several terrible eyes.

"Holy cow, it worked!" Rowan says, kneeling to take a better look at me. "You're freaking small."

"Quit with the gibberish," I say. "Grab me and let's do this."

"Your voice sounds super funny," she giggles. "We should do this more often."

She grabs me between her palms, gently putting me inside her skirt's pocket. I am leaping a lot inside it, surrounded by a lot of soft cloth, realizing that I'm the exact size of a candy Rowan has in there too. I can hear a lot of voices, chattering about the match to come, until we finally stop. We're probably across from the Fat Lady's portrait.

 _Oh boy, this is so not going to work._

"Hey Rowan!" I hear Charlie Weasley's voice as he appears to be heading to the portrait. "What's up?"

"Not much, Charlie," she lies. "I'm waiting for Mila so we go watch the match together."

"Oh, I'm afraid Mila's already going to the pitch," he says. "But wait for me. I'll just grab my Gryffindor hat and be right back."

Everything happens so fast that I can barely know what's going on. Rowan sticks her hand in her pocket, grabbing me tightly in her hand, while she waits for Charlie to say the password and the portrait to move. When it does, right before it closes, Rowan throws me into the room. Thankfully, I fall over a very soft rug.

Everything is this Common Room looks excessively big, but maybe it's because I'm too freaking tiny. I run and hide under the sofa, and wait for everyone to leave. I watch as Charlie puts a huge red top hat on his head and leaves the room, glancing a sweet smile at Rowan.

I count to ten very slowly, but no one seems to be around anymore. I take a deep breath in before pointing my wand to myself:

" _Engorgio_ ," I cast, feeling everything turning to its normal size again.

 _Bloody hell, it worked._

I don't have much time to be astonished. I feel like I'm gonna break my neck from looking side to side so desperately. I push cushions away, looks behind the books, under vases and statues, behind the curtains and under the rugs, even under every single armchair. I open all the drawers, carefully trying to put everything back in its place.

 _No. I can't believe it was a false clue._

Just when I'm about to give up and leave, something inside the fireplace calls my attention: it is hidden, covered in ashes and dust, but I can see it.

 _A black quill._

I grab it as quickly as possible, staining my fingers with dark dust. I stick the quill in my pocket and grab my wand, casting the spell to make me small again. It works just as good as when Rowan did it, and I rush to the portrait, which opens when I step behind it.

 _Thank God._

I reach the outside of the room, taking deeps breaths to calm my heart.

 _I can't believe is actually worked._

A pair of footsteps startles my heart all over again, and I rush to hide behind a tapestry. What I see are too giant female forms, stepping right into the Common Room.

 _McGonagall and Angelica._

I wait outside until they come out again, McGonagall showing a very distressed expression.

"There's no one in here, Miss Cole," she says. "I frankly cannot believe you made me leave the first Quidditch match of the year to make sure no one invaded your Common Room."

"But Professor, I told you," Angelica says. "That Lockhart girl is not watching the match! And she said something very suspicious about something hiding inside our Common Room. I _know_ she's up to something!"

 _Stupid slug. First she asks me to duel Ben and then she calls me The Lockhart girl. Like I'm the Loch Ness Monster or something._

" _There is no one in there,_ " McGonagall projects. "Miss Lockhart could be anywhere in this castle. She knows better than to invade this Common Room, Miss Cole. Now let's go back to the pitch."

"But Professor," Angelica tries, rushing after McGonagall.

I wait until I'm positively sure that it's okay to undo the spell, and then I go back to my regular size. With not much time to think, I rush to my dorm to wait for Rowan.

I lay in my bed, staring at the black quill in my hands. It looks just like a simple quill, and it's so tempting to untransfigurate it, but I must wait for Rowan to come back from the match.

I quickly stick the quill under my pillow when I hear a bunch of voices entering the dorm.

"The match was _sick_!" Emma shouts, happily.

"It was so nice to see those Slytherins' sad faces," Zelda giggles.

"Our Team will have to practice harder if we want to beat Gryffindor," Ruby says throwing herself on her bed.

"Athena," Tulips asks. "Why weren't you are the match?"

"Hmmm," I say. Come on. Come up with an excuse faster. "I had cramps."

 _Perfect._

"Ouch," Tulip says. "Hope you're feeling better."

"Hey," Rowan says, kneeling next to my bed. "Wanna go have some lunch?" She winks at me discretely.

I follow her to the Great Hall, where we happily enjoy our lunch, trying not to raise any suspicions. Angelica, on the other hand, is looking at me like a hawk staring at its prey and I confess I'm not liking this at all.

The Gryffindor table is exulted, talking nonstop about how awesome the match was and what a pleasure it was to defeat Slytherin. I take a look at the teacher's table, but Professor Snape isn't there. Neither does Professor McGonagall. I wonder if they're somewhere having an argument about which Quidditch team is better.

Rowan and I finish our lunch and rush to our Common Room, where there's still fire on the fireplace, but, thankfully, there's no one around.

"Good, there's no one here," Rowan says when we get in there. "Did you get it?"

I take the quill from my pocket, placing it over the table. Rowan points her want at the quill, looking at me with concern.

"Do it," I tell her.

" _Reparifarge_ ," she casts, and where the black quill was, just a second ago, there is a scroll of parchment.

"Oh my," I say, grabbing the scroll and unrolling it. "Proceed to the farthest corridor at the east end of the fifth floor. Transfigure this scroll back into a quill and return it to the Gryffindor Common Room. Failure to follow your instructions will result in severe punishment."

"This corridor," Rowan repeats. "I've never been there before. That I know, it's a place people try to avoid. Are we going to put the quill back in its place?"

"The hell we will," I say, throwing the scroll in the fire. "Let's go."


	19. Year 2: Chapter 5 - Tears and Ice

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you in this beautiful Sunday night? I've spent the whole weekend doing field work on coastal rocks, helping my hubby with his thesis on a non-native clam. I hope you guys are enjoying the story as well as your weekend. I wanna know what your Ilvermorny house is: mine is the Horned Serpent (pretty much Ravenclaw). As you know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Five – Tears and Ice**

"Should we tell a professor?" Rowan declares while we're racing to the fifth floor. "We should _totally_ tell."

"No, Rowan," I shout. "There's no time!"

We hurry through the corridors, turning so many corners that I'm not even sure where we are anymore. We rush until we see it: the farthest corridor at the east end of the fifth floor. We slow our pace, trying to tranquilize our hearts, not knowing what we're going to find out from now on.

The corridor is long, dark and cold, with the kind of atmosphere that would make the hairs in the back of your neck stand up. No wonder people usually do not come here. I wouldn't either.

Especially because of the huge ice crystals everywhere.

" _Look,_ " Rowan whispers. " _There's Snape_."

I don't have much time to observe the scenario, because Rowan pulls me to the back of a gigantic piece of ice, where we squat to listen.

Professor Snape isn't alone. His back are turned to us, his black hair falling over his shoulders, his arms apparently crossed. Next to him is the other person who wasn't present at lunch: Professor McGonagall.

In front of them there's another huge ice crystal, almost as tall as I am, a familiar head sticking out of it.

 _Ben!_

"I'm so c-c-cold," Ben quivers, his face pale as paper.

"Obviously," Professor Snape says in his usual serene voice tone.

"The _Flipendo_ isn't working, Severus," McGonagall says, worried. "It has always worked on cursed ice!"

" _Incendio_ would melt it away," Professor Snape suggests, calmly.

"Along with his flesh!" McGonagall exclaims.

Rowan and I exchange concerned stares. Ben was trapped in cursed ice all this time?

"I never said he would survive," Snape says.

"The cursed ice continues to spread throughout Hogwarts. Someone has clearly been tampering with the Cursed Vaults," McGonagall says.

"It would be helpful if Dumbledore were at Hogwarts, instead of searching elsewhere for answers," Snape grumbles.

I swallow hard. Something feels terribly wrong inside of me, and it definitely isn't PMS. We've only entered a frozen room last year and it wasn't even a vault. Or what it? Are we responsible for this mess?

"We don't need Albus to safely free Mr. Copper," McGonagall says, sharply. "Let's cast _Incendio_ together, but target the ice farthest away from his body. Be careful, Severus.

I can't watch. I grab Rowan by her wrist and pull her out of that corridor, my heart beating so fast that I think it's going to explode. If my reckless searching for the vaults in anyway results in Ben being hurt, or even _worse_ , I don't know what I'm going to do.

"Athena, stop!" Rowan says when she notices I'm running aimlessly. "What the hell just happened?"

"I d-don't know," I say, feeling the tears coming to my eyes. "But it's n-not g-g-ood."

"Athena, calm down," she says, locking me in a hug.

"No!" I scream, my face buried in her hair. "Ben's been trapped in that damn ice for months! And it's all my fault!"

"It is not!" she says. "That room we've been at last year, do you remember what Merula said? It wasn't a vault. Someone released all that ice and you had nothing to do with it."

"What i-if B-ben dies?" I sob, desperate.

"Ben is not gonna die," she guarantees. "Madam Pomfrey will take care of him. Why don't we go there? To the Hospital Wing? I'll pretend I have cramps so we can check when Ben gets there."

I nod, Rowan's face looking all blurred because of the tears filling my eyes.

"You look like crap," she says while we're getting there. "I think it's best if _you_ say you have cramps."

Madam Pomfrey is just giving me a potion for my "cramps" when Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape rush into the Hospital Wing, Ben in a floating gurney.

"Poppy!" McGonagall calls, concern in her voice. "We need your help immediately!"

"Merlin's beard, Minerva!" Madam Pomfrey says. "What happened to him?"

"This is Ben Copper," she says. "The boy who's been missing for the past months."

"Where was he all this time?"

"Trapped inside cursed ice," she says. "It's spreading throughout the castle."

"Leave him to me," Madam Pomfrey says. "I'll do my best to help him."

Ben looks terrible. He seems to be asleep, but it might be far worse. His skin has a bluish tone to it, and his fingertips are a little bit purple. It's like he's dead, but I can see his chest moving.

 _Thank God you're alive, Ben._

"Professor," Rowan rushes to McGonagall. "What happened to Ben?"

"He's going to be fine, Miss Khanna," Professor McGonagall says, obviously omitting all the truth. "Madam Pomfrey will heal him in no time."

Before leaving the Hospital Wing, Professor Snape squints his raven eyes at me, mistrust flooding them. Does he know we were there? I wonder if he's able of reading my mind, since he always looks at me like that.

Madam Pomfrey's potion makes no effect, obviously, with the exception of making me feel a little bit sleepy. We stay there for a few more minutes until she says the potion probably already did its job and it's time for us to go. Rowan hesitates, but then she pulls me out of there, biting her bottom lip, looking completely agog.

I don't even notice where she's taking me. My eyes are filling with tears again; I'm feeling that awful sting in my throat for trying not to burst into tears. I'm usually not this emotional, but seeing Ben like that, almost freezing to death, made me think of my brother. And then that's it. I can't hold it anymore. By the time Rowan manages to take me to the edge of the Black Lake, I'm crying my eyes out.

Her embrace is very soothing. She says nothing about my absurd crying or the fact that I'm drenching her blouse. She only stands there, one arm holding me, and the other hand gently stroking my hair. And even though it sounds ridiculous, that gentle demonstration of friendship makes me cry even more.

"Athena!" I hear Penny's voice as it seems like she's rushing to us. "Did you hear? They found Ben!"

"We know," Rowan says, calmly.

"You do?" she asks. "Wait. Is he hurt?"

"Too soon to say," Rowan says. "But he spent the last two months trapped inside cursed ice."

"Is this why…" Penny starts saying and I can feel Rowan nodding. "Oh, Athena."

I feel Penny's arms closing around me too, and the warmth of that hug slowly makes me feel better. By the time they let me go, I'm no longer crying.

We sit on the grass, watching some tentacles rise above the surface and then disappear again. The sun is starting to set and a chilly breeze is blowing, making me cross my arms to warm up.

"I hope Ben is okay," Penny says, hugging her legs and resting her chin over her knees. "I wonder how this happened. Ben is always afraid of everything."

"Maybe that's the issue," I say, staring vaguely at the Dark Forest. "Maybe his fears led him to try and prove himself."

"Or maybe someone forced him to," Rowan comments, distractedly making a lot of slender braids in her hair. "Someone as Merula, for example."

"Do you think she's been trying to find them?" I ask. "The Cursed Vaults?"

"Well, she said she would, didn't she?" Rowan says. "We haven't done anything else after we saved her from that room."

"Yeah," Penny sighs. "We should've left her in there."

"No," I say. "Then we would be as bad as she is. And I don't wanna be like her."

A veil of silence falls upon us, and as the sky turns dark, we get up and head to the castle, each one of us lost in our own thoughts. I can't help but to think of Jake and wonder if what happened to Ben happened to him as well. He's been missing for over a year.

What if he's trapped in ice too?

What if he's dead?

I cry myself to sleep, trying not to sob out loud, only letting the warm tears fall down my cheeks, wetting my dark blue pillows with darker blue spots. The nightmares don't disturb me tonight, like they're giving me some rest.

At least for now, anyway.


	20. Year 2: Chapter 6 - Struck

**Introduction:** Over 4000 views! I wanna thank you guys so much for all the support, love and sweet messages. Writing this story is working as my therapy while I'm studying hard during my Master degree. I quit my break from the game – thanks to James for teasing me – and I have just started Chapter Four. I confess I _do not_ trust Rakepick and I still have my suspicions on Ben. What do you think? And I'm dying to know who is the mysterious person in the cape from Chapter Three. Any theories? As you guys know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Six – Struck**

A week. That's how long Ben has been at the Hospital Wing without seeing anyone. Madam Pomfrey said he was in a critical state the last two hundred times I tried seeing him, and simply shoved me out of there.

He has lost all the first exams and even though I'm trying to convince myself that I'm worried about his academic problems, I know this is not the real issue.

I wanna know if he's okay.

And what led him to that corridor.

And if Merula forced him to go there.

And if this last statement is true, if I'm going to get in trouble for drowning her in the Black Lake.

Somehow I managed to succeed in all my exams. Thankfully, Aunt Anise isn't back yet and Professor Snape was responsible for elaborating our test. It was a disaster for everyone who took Aunt Anise's lessons seriously, since Professor Snape _actually_ created some very respectable and intricate questions. It was almost pleasing to answer that test, to be honest. I don't know why, but I like how he always challenges my intellect.

We start to learn about _Immobolus_ in Charms class and it's awful not to see Ben sitting in his usual spot. People seem to be having a lot to talk about him: how he's not only a coward and a freak, but he's also irresponsible and stupid. I lost count of the times I told people to shut the fuck up.

Along with _Immobolus_ we have to practice the general counter-spell, which is _Finite Incantatem_. Rowan seems to be having a good time while pointing her wand at me and immobilizing me over and over again. I, on the other hand, am wondering when I'll be able to use this spell on Merula. Maybe _then_ I can drown her in the Black Lake. She'll be already immobilized, so it won't be too difficult.

In Potions, we learn how to brew a Hair-Raising Potion. I confess I don't know when it will come in handy, except for making people look crazy. But despise all its inutility, Professor Snape thinks this is a safe potion for us to finally test on ourselves.

"Now," he says. "Who is brave enough to try your own potion? If it's flawlessly done, your hair shall stand on end. If not, it is very likely that it will just all fall off."

It's hard to affirm, but I could swear a devilish smile appeared on his lips. I grab a flask, filling it with a bit of the potion, and raise it to my lips.

"Are you insane?" Rowan says. "What if your hair falls off?"

"It won't," I say, drinking my potion, which tastes a bit like green tea.

It is instant. The minute I drink the last drop, all my hair raises to the ceiling, and I probably look like the Bride of Frankenstein. The whole class bursts into laughter, with the exception of Professor Snape. He's actually looking at me with his lips pressed together, probably containing some very mischievous giggles.

After my demonstration of bravery – which I don't think was actually bravery, but anyway – all the other students decide to try their potions too. Rowan laughs out loud when her hair goes up, looking like she's been electrocuted. Professor Snape seems to be having a good time too, and I wonder if he taught us this potion just to let off some steam after the exams.

"No!" we hear and exclamation coming from the back of the class. A Slytherin girl whose name I think it's Evelyn is crying in desperation, her long locks of black hair falling to the ground.

"Holy crap," I hear Rowan say to herself.

Professor Snape says nothing. He simply walks to her, touches her bald head with the tip of his wand, and a bunch of black hair instantly starts growing, falling down her shoulders until it reaches the length it was before. For some reason, this makes her cry even more.

"Class dismissed," he says, and we all leave with our hair still standing, looking completely crazy.

It takes about an hour for our hairs to go back into normal again, and Professor McGonagall seems to be having a hard time concentrating to teach how to transfigurate a bird into a goblet.

I try to go and see Ben after Herbology, but Rowan is skeptical that Madam Pomfrey will allow us to see him.

"I'll wait for you in the library," she says, turning a corridor while I continue ahead to the Hospital Wing.

There are more students here this time: some just having their arms bandaged, some drinking potions, some just lying there like they're sleeping, and, in a bed next to a window, is Ben.

"You again, Miss Lockhart," Madam Pomfrey says when I walk into the Hospital Wing.

"I just want to know if he'll be alright," I tell her, not attempting to go and walk to his bed like I've done before and she yelled at me.

"I believe so," she says, calmly, handing a glass full of some bluish liquid to a girl who is looking awfully pale. "His memory is erratic, but I've seen patients in far worse conditions."

"Did he…" I start saying, feeling a weight in my heart. "Did he ask to see me?"

"Many times, actually," Madam Pomfrey says, raising her thin brows at me. "Along with other strange proclamations and requests. I believe he's experiencing some state of delirium."

I look at him from where I'm standing. The color has returned to his cheeks and his eyes are slightly opened, like he's just bored.

"Can I talk to him?" I ask her, already prepared for a negative answer.

"Yes," she says, sharply, staring at me with her intense blue eyes. "But be brief. He's in a _very_ delicate state."

I do not wait to see if she might change her mind; I rush to Ben's bed, trying really hard not to cry when he looks at me with his big brown eyes.

"Athena," he says and his voice is a little hoarse. "You came."

"Every day, Ben," I say, sitting in a chair next to his bed. "Madam Pomfrey said you weren't well enough to receive visitors."

He simply smiles at me; a very sad and subtle smile. His hand reaches for mine, holding it very lightly, like he doesn't have much strength. His skin is cold as ice and his lips are still a little purplish.

"How are you feeling?" I say, holding his hand between mine, trying to warm them.

"Honestly?" he says. "Like complete shit," he giggles and I feel better that he still holds some sense of humor.

"Ben," I say, rubbing my thumb over the back of his ice cold hand. "What happened to you? How did you end up in that corridor?"

He blinks at me, his face showing deep frustration.

"I don't remember," he says with resentment. "I don't know how it all happened. All I remember was standing there, a whole lot of ice surrounding me, and not being able to call for help."

"Oh, Ben," I say, bringing his hand to my lips, gently exhaling some warm breath to his skin, which hasn't changed temperature. "We tried so hard finding you. Mr. Filch looked everywhere for you. Rowan and I even _invaded_ the Gryffindor Common Room because of a clue we found in the Artifact Room. It all led to that corridor."

"Really?" he says, looking a bit shocked. "I don't remember finding anything. Madam Pomfrey says it might be a side effect of the cursed ice."

"That's enough for today, Miss Lockhart," Madam Pomfrey says, looking at me with severe eyes. "Mr. Copper needs his rest."

"Yes, Madam," I say, placing a gentle kiss on Ben's hand and leaving the Hospital.

Inside me a fidgety feeling starts to grow: something is really, really wrong.

"Maybe he's lying," Penny says while we're heading to the Astronomy Tower. "Maybe he's trying to protect us."

"Or maybe he's being threatened," Rowan instigates, biting the skin around her thumb. "I keep what I said before. I think Merula has something do to with this."

"I'm not saying I doubt you, Rowan," I say. "But we can't do anything without proof."

"It sucks," she says, snorting in profound discomfiture.

"We should investigate," Penny says with a concentrated expression. "I mean, what if Merula is, in fact, behind of all this? What if she was the one who sent the messages? Maybe her middle name is Rachel."

"Or Ramona," I giggle.

"Or Really-Really-Really-Annoying," Rowan joins us in our joke.

It's still dark when Rowan starts poking me while I'm trying to sleep. A quick look in my watch and I see it's still six o'clock.

" _Rowan_ ," I whisper. " _Go back to sleep._ "

" _I can't,_ " she says. " _We need to investigate that corridor. Now._ "

" _Are you insane?_ " I ask. " _We're going to get caught._ "

" _No, we won't._ " she says. " _The entire castle is still asleep. Come on. Let's go._ "

She won't let me sleep if I don't get up. I put on my vests and follow her silently, tiptoeing until we finally get out of our Common Room. We walk through the desert and dark corridors of the castle, looking over our shoulders to make sure neither Filch nor Mrs. Norris is around. The corridor is in the other side of Hogwarts, far away from Ravenclaw's Tower. By the time we finally get there, I can see the first sunbeams rising from behind the clouds.

" _Hurry_ ," Rowan says, pulling me by arm.

The corridor is completely desert, with the exception of all the ice rocks making it hard to walk without touching anything.

Rowan starts looking everywhere: under benches, in the torches, by the windows, under the carpet… It doesn't seem to be nothing out of ordinary there. Except the ice, of course. But while I'm walking around, my fingertips tracing the stone wall, I feel slightly colder.

" _Rowan_ ," I call her. " _In here. I feel a draught coming from this wall._ "

Rowan rushes to me, her wand in hand.

" _Do you feel it too?_ " I ask. " _Like it's colder in here?_ "

" _Yes_ ," she says. " _Maybe there's something hidden._ "

Rowan takes a deep breath in and points her wand to the wall.

" _Revelio_ ," she casts, and the wall starts to gently glisten, like the stones are actually made of a shiny see-through veil.

And behind it: a huge staircase.

A terrible feeling starts to overpower me.

 _There's something wrong with this place._

" _It's the staircase from my dreams_ ," I murmur, holding my wand tightly.

" _It must be it_ ," Rowan says. " _The Vanished Stairs. From the message_."

" _What do we do now, Rowan?_ " I ask her in an uneasy whisper.

" _Let's go_ ," she says, pulling me towards the staircase.

It is _really_ colder in here, like it's endless wintertime, but there's a dark energy in the atmosphere. Covering our ankles is a sinister mist; dense like a cloud, but its coldness pierces my feet, which are only covered by my socks and loafers.

" _It's too cold in here_ ," I whisper. " _We should come back with warmer clothes._ "

" _And you don't think people will notice?_ " Rowan says, her voice slightly trembling with the cold. " _Two girls walking around looking like they're going to Siberia?_ "

I follow her upstairs, turning a few corners, until we're faced with the most majestic corridor I've ever seen. There are torches everywhere, but none of them has fire. On both sides of the corridor are suits of armors, all holding spears, shields and swords, but they all seem to be made of solid rock. The floor seems to be covered in some kind of frost and I can barely see the carpet under it.

" _Look_ ," Rowan says. " _There are footprints on the ground._ "

I look forward and I can see them, perfectly marked in the frost: a set of footsteps. Rowan looks at me with deep concern, but then she nods at me and we continue our path, following those footprints to whatever it is that they're leading.

" _Do you think they're Merula's?_ " I ask, rubbing my arms in a useless attempt to warm myself.

" _Maybe they're Ben's._ " she says.

She says nothing else, but I know she's thinking the same as I am. Maybe those prints aren't Merula's or Ben's. They may belong to someone else.

 _Or something._

The corridor seems to never end, and the air just keeps getting colder and colder. Rowan gets nearer, hooking her arm in mine, and I can see our breaths in front of our faces.

" _What the hell…_ " Rowan says when the corridor finally reaches its end. In the final wall there's a big archway, but we can't see what's on the other side. A thick mist is covering the passage.

" _Do you think it's wise?_ " I ask. " _Walking through it?_ "

" _No,_ " she says. _"Let's try to push it away_."

She points her wand to the mist and looks at me with determination.

" _Flipendo!_ " a bright white light comes out from her wand, hitting the wall of mist.

For my astonishment, the mist dissipates, revealing the most beautiful icy room, with frost covering all the walls and pillars, stalagmites and stalactites everywhere, and a huge frozen door, with a gigantic snowflake guarding it like a gate.

" _It's incredible_ ," I say, walking with Rowan to the door, standing right in front of the five steps which lead to it.

" _Everything is covered in snow and frost_ ," Rowan says, looking around, completely mesmerized.

" _Do you think this is a Cursed Vault?_ " I ask, staring at the huge door, my heart pounding hard in my chest.

" _Should we try to open it?_ " she looks at me, biting her bottom lip with doubt.

" _I don't know_ ," I say, climbing those steps and approaching the door, looking at the glass-like ice, reaching my hand to touch the snowflake.

When my fingertips touch the cold surface, I feel immediately strange. My thoughts begin to twist and whirl like a hurricane, and a lot of images flash through my mind, my heart racing painfully against my ribcage.

"Athena!" Rowan exclaims, her hand pressing my arm. "What's going on?"

"I saw something," I say, breathing hard. "In my head."

"Like a vision?" she asks. "What did you see?"

"I saw two rooms," I tell her. "One dark, loaded with books. The other cluttered, with a door outlined in chalk. And…"

"And what?" Rowan seems to be getting really nervous.

"And You-Know-Who. I don't even know what he looks like… but I saw this man… and I knew it was him."

"Athena, I'm not liking this at all," she says, desperate. "Let's get out of here."

"ROWAN, DUCK!" I yell, pushing her away.

A beam of glistening light comes out from the door, hitting the place we were standing a second ago.

"It must be enchanted!" Rowan shouts.

"Watch out!" I yell when another beam strikes in our direction.

I manage to dodge it, falling hard on the snowy floor. I look at Rowan, but she doesn't look back at me.

My heart seems to stop.

 _Rowan._

I rush to her, kneeling on the snow next to her unconscious body, putting my ear over her chest. My hands are shaking so much that I don't know if it's because of the cold or because I'm freaking out.

Inside her chest I hear a gentle drumming, but it's so much slower than it should be.

 _Oh, no._

 _No. No. No. No!_


	21. Year 2: Chapter 7 - Karma

**Introduction:** Hi everyone! How are you all doing in this beautiful foggy morning? I hope you're having an awesome day and wish you the best of Thursdays. I wanna thank you guys so much for the reviews and send a special thank you to the Guest Reviews which I cannot answer back. So thank you, thank you, thank you for all the support! I am absolutely loving writing this story and it's helping me cope with a lot of stress. Though there are a lot of people not really liking the game, I confess I'm thrilled with all the mystery and I can't wait to see what happens next. Of course it's not flawless, especially because my character (and I assume it's like that for everyone) has a tendency to look for trouble, even though sometimes her actions aren't exactly what _I_ would do. But well… that's what this story is here for. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying and please, send me messages about your thoughts on the story, writing, game and theories. You guys give me a lot of inspiration! As you know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Seven – Karma**

 _She has a fever._

 _She has the flu._

 _She has an eating disorder._

 _She tripped and hit her head._

All the excuses I tried coming up with are ridiculous. In the end, I simply said she fainted while we were going to have breakfast. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey didn't ask any other questions, neither looked at me with suspicion.

Rowan is at the hospital and it's all my fault. Why did I have to touch that goddamn snowflake? Why didn't I convince Rowan to say in our beds instead of wandering around in a life-threatening adventure? Why? Just why?

I told Penny everything after breakfast, before heading to the dungeons. She didn't say much, but she rubbed my arm in such kind and comforting way that my woeful feelings diminished a bit. Her big bright eyes were so incredibly reassuring, that I managed to go to Potions class without feeling so terrible.

After facing that icy door, the dungeons don't look so cold and gloomy anymore, but it's hard to look to the side and not see Rowan brewing her potion too.

 _One measure of doxy eggs…_

I'm trying hard to focus, but I can sense Merula's stare, almost burning my skin. Sometimes I think that even if she was on the other side of the world it would still be too close.

"What have you been up to, Lockhart?" she asks, walking to my cauldron with her nasty violet eyes.

"Gaining more points to beat Slytherin," I simply say. "Again."

She snorts, her lips twisting into an expression of disdain.

"I've been investigating the vaults myself," she says in a low voice. "You would never believe the things I've discovered."

"Good thing you know I'd never believe a _liar_ like you," I hiss, focusing on my potion, heating it up until the mixture turns pink.

"Like everything in your life, your search for the vaults is doomed," she spits, apparently not satisfied with annoying me during one of my favorite classes. "I'm working with someone to locate the Cursed Vaults before you. All their power will be mine," I can see her smiling from the corner of my eye. "I'll do whatever it takes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, not believe she's bold enough to threaten me.

"You'll see," she says, simply, and goes back to her table.

Professor Snape is nowhere to be seen. I look around to see if he's helping someone, but he's not in the classroom. I didn't notice him leaving, but then again, I was just too concentrated. Why isn't he here when Merula is threatening me?

By the time I'm adding toasted dragonfly thoraxes to my potion, the door opens with a bang, and a turn to see Professor Snape's livid face, my heart nearly stopping when I see him rushing straight to me.

"I've received information that you've been stealing supplies from my personal storage," he sibilates, placing both his hands on my table, his dark eyes looking directly into mine.

"I beg your pardon?" I say, looking at him with indignation. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Because you thought it would _somehow_ help with your foolish pursuit of the Cursed Vaults," his voice is incisive. "Because, like your brother, you insist on testing the boundaries of school rules, as well as my patience."

I close my fists on the sides of my body, taking a deep breath in.

"I have no desire to know what goes on in your warped, tiny mind," he growls. "Explain why there were stolen potion ingredients in the drawer next to you bed."

 _Oh._

 _No._

 _She._

 _Didn't._

"Merula _obviously_ put them there, sir," if I'm going down, she's going with me. I look at her with stabbing eyes. "She's sabotaged me before, and she'll do _anything_ to get me expelled. Or worse."

My eyes turn to Professor Snape's, and his eyes are so very black that I can see my angry reflection in them.

"And how would Miss Snyde enter your dormitory?" he inquires.

"I wouldn't put it past her to bribe or blackmail or trick someone into helping her," I retort, feeling so much anger that I don't know if drowning Merula in the Black Lake will be enough.

"Is it true?" for my surprise, Professor Snape turns her face to stare at Merula. "Miss Snyde?"

"Of course not!" her voice has a false offended tone, looking very hoarse and not at all confident. "I want to see Lockhart expelled, but only because she's a disgrace and a danger to everyone at Hogwarts."

Professor Snape straightens his back, looking at Merula with complete disgust.

"I genuinely wish you weren't lying."

" _Excuse me?_ " Merula's annoying voice exclaims.

"You are an absolutely atrocious liar," Professor Snape hisses. "Particularly for a Slytherin. You will help Mr. Filch clean the castle _without_ magic every day after classes, as punishment for attempting to frame Miss Lockhart."

I am trying so hard not to smile, so I'm simply pressing my lips together, releasing the tightness of my fists, sighing in relief and bliss. I risk a look at Professor Snape, who's sitting at his table, writing something in a piece of parchment.

My heart races when his jet-black eyes look straight into mine, and I can almost spot a glimpse of a smile when he turns his eyes back to his writing.

 _Thank you, Professor._

 _Thank you so much._

* * *

"Athena," Rowan gasps when I sit next to her, her hands softly holding mine. "You came to visit my sick old bones."

"Aren't you a drama queen?" I giggle, rolling my eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Cold," she says. "But I guess that's expected."

"I brought you some cookies from lunch," I tell him. "Smuggled them in my pockets like you taught me, and brought you my essay for Herbology class."

"Thank you, Athie," she smiles at me, her face looking too pale for my taste.

I tell her everything about Merula's attempt to frame me and how Professor Snape finally stood by me this time.

"Karma is a bitch," she rustles, her eyes looking tired and heavy.

"Go to sleep, Row," I tell her. "I'll come by later. Just try and get some rest."

The day is so absurdly warm and beautiful, that I decide to take a stroll around the castle, absorbing some sun rays and feeling my body warm from the inside out. A great feeling after almost freezing inside that icy corridor.

"People say your friend ended up in the hospital for trying to find a Cursed Vault," Merula walks in my direction, her voice filled with coldness. "How is she?"

"Don't pretend you care 'bout my friends, _Merula_ ," I spit her name like it is bitter.

"I don't," she says. "But I _do_ care 'bout the Cursed Vaults. Though not as much as your mental brother. Why do you think he was so obsessed with them?"

I walk by her, making a point of bumping my arm in hers, looking at they violet eyes like she's less than I worm. It is best to stay away from her before I do something I regret.

Like drowning her in the Black Lake.

Or throwing her against the Whomping Willow.

Or immobilizing her and leaving her body inside the Dark Forest.

Or sticking my wand in her eyeball.

"Rowan!" I exclaim when I see her walking to me during breakfast. "What are you doing here?"

"Madam Pomfrey discharged me," she says with a big smile, sitting next to me at Ravenclaw's table. "Holy moly, I'm starving!"

I look at her completely mesmerized as she fills her plate with eggs, pancakes and a huge croissant. Her face has a healthy color again, her eyes are shiny and alive, and her skin is warm again, as I notice when I hug her, ignoring the insane amounts of food she's stuffing in her mouth.

"I'm so happy you're better," I mumble in her hair, feeling my heart flooding in joy.

"Me too," she says, drinking big gulps of chocolate milk after her food. "I just don't feel strong enough to go back there."

"Go back?" I say, squinting my eyes at her. "Row, _we're not_ going back there."

"No, Athie," she says. "You have to. Something wicked is going on in this school and you know it," she coughs and I look at her with worry. "Sorry, I'm okay. Listen, you can't let Merula find the Cursed Vaults. She'll probably release something terrible that will kill us all."

"It's not a good idea, Row," I say. "If Merula is involved I'd rather leave it to our teachers."

"They don't know what's going on," she says. "You heard Professor Snape. Dumbledore is not even in the castle! We're all at Merula's mercy. Unless you put a stopper to it."

"I can't do it alone, Row," I stare at my tea. "And I don't want you to get hurt again."

"I'll help you in another way," she says. "With books and a good plan. But you'll need to take someone else to the vaults. Someone better than us."

"Who? Penny?"

"No," she smiles at me. "Bill Weasley."

" _What?_ " I say. "How am I supposed to ask him to go with me if I never even spoke to him?"

"You'll find a way," she says. "I heard things while I was at the hospital. That he's one of the bravest students when it comes to spells. He's the best choice we've got."

I can see her cheeks blushing as she has another bite of her croissant.

"Fine," I say, at last. "I'll talk to him."

"Oh," she says, looking at me with sparking eyes. "When you do, tell him I'm available to study if he ever wants a partner."

"Frankly, Rowan. You're one of a kind."

* * *

I spend the next weeks trying to find a not disturbing way to ask Bill to help me, but every time I look at him he's surrounded by his friends and one or another bedazzled girl.

"You could do it next Saturday," Penny says, sitting next to us by the fountain. "Charlie asked me to invite you girls to his birthday party. In the Gryffindor Common Room."

"But it's against the rules to enter another house's Common Room," Rowan says, looking at me with a frown.

Yeah. Like we haven't done that before.

"We'll have the password," Penny says. "The Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl are okay with this. They all like the Weasley brothers."

"Speaking of Weasley," I say, turning my face to Rowan's. "You never said how your _date_ with Charlie in the Quidditch match was."

"It wasn't a date," Rowan rolls her eyes. "He simply walked me to the pitch. He's very nice, actually."

Penny and I exchange amused stares.

"Fine," Rowan says. "What's the password? We'll go."

" _Victus serpens,_ " Penny says with a smirk.

 _Defeated snake._

 _Very pertinent, Gryffindors._

We watch Merula walk by us, following Mr. Filch, holding a bucket and a mop, looking completely dismayed.

 _Very pertinent, indeed._


	22. Year 2: Chapter 8 - Holly

**Introduction:** Hello, my beautiful lovelies! How are you all doing in this beautiful sunny freaking hot Sunday morning? It's currently wintertime in Brazil and I life in a usually freakishly cold city, but it somehow managed to be hot as an oven in the middle of winter. How's the weather like in your country today? I'd like to address a few Guest reviews, since unfortunately I can't properly send them a message. I'm sorry about the inconsistences regarding Rowan's Indian ancestry; I did some research about Hindi curse words and sweet names to call your relatives, but of course – given the fact that I'm not educated in it – some mistakes were made. I'll be sure to correct them in the given time. Thank you **Indian** (guest name) for letting me know! It's very important that if there are any incoherencies, you let me know so I can fix them. I try researching as much as possible and sometimes even end up in some weird deep web websites (like the time I researched if Snape had ever dated anyone after Lily's death and I ended up in a discussion whether if he died a virgin or not). I also wanna thank **Guest** (that I have reasons to believe it's always the same person) for the kind messages. And also, a big shout out to James and Andouille, who are always so freaking adorable and supportive. Okay, enough with this ginormous note. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and, as you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Eight – Holly**

"Change of plans, girls," Penny says, while Rowan and I are going back to our Tower to change before Charlie's party. "The party will be in the Hufflepuff Common Room. It's closer to the kitchens, so it will be easier to smuggle some food."

Rowan and I trade glances.

"Is this something you Hufflepuffs do all the time?" I ask. "I thought you were all correct and righteous people."

"Right," Penny giggles. "We can be righteous, but we're still hungry."

"And how do we get in there?" I ask.

"I will accompany you," she says. "By the way, what are you going to wear?"

It takes Rowan almost an hour to choose an outfit. She throws a bunch of random clothing pieces of her bed – and over mine too – and begins an argument with herself.

 _The red shirt or the blue one?_

 _Do I look good with his jacket?_

 _What about this dress?_

"Rowan," I say, at last. "You'll look good even if you wear a dragon costume. Don't worry about it."

I'm not so picky with my clothes. It is really cold outside, so I'm wearing my Ravenclaw sweater – the one my grandma knitted for me – and a black beret, a pair of jeans and my Converse shoes. Rowan, on the other hand, will probably freeze, since she decided on a baby pink dress and flats.

 _The things we do to impress boys._

I have never been to the basement where the kitchens and Penny's Common Room are located. Penny takes us by the lonely corridors until we reach a stack of eight barrels, stuck in holes on the wall, under a brick archway. Apparently, every Common Room has its own system of entrance. I wonder what the Slytherin's Common Room entrance is like. Maybe you have to make a blood sacrifice…

Penny approaches one particular barrel and taps it a few times in a musical rhythm. Rowan looks at me with a frown, but her brows instantly raise when the barrels morph into a circular door, much similar to the one from Lord of the Rings.

The inside is simmering with laughter and conversations and I can already smell the pies and the glasses of juice that are being carried around by a bunch of house elves.

"Rowan! Athena!" Charlie says with the biggest of smiles, his ginger hair flowing when he walks to us. "I'm so glad you came!"

"Happy Birthday, Charlie," I say, giving him a big hug. "Here," I hand him the present Rowan and I got for him. "Chester had to get this for us in Hogsmeade. I hope you like caramels."

Dragon-shaped caramels, to be more precise.

"Very much indeed," he smiles. "Come, come. There a lot of food."

"Where did these elves come from?" I ask him when a particularly helpful elf comes and hands me a glass of juice.

"They work in the kitchens," he says. "You're no idea of how happy they were when we said we needed some nibbles and drinks."

"And how is it possible to get in the kitchens?" I ask. "Isn't it forbidden?"

"Entering the Dark Forest is also forbidden," he giggles. "But does that stop us?" he winks. "Anyway, Bill and Wyatt do it all the time. Entering the kitchens, I mean," Charlie says, pointing to a tall boy with dark brown hair talking to Bill. "Please, enjoy the party."

I am very excited to know Hufflepuff's Common Room. I've already met Gryffindor's, but I don't think I'll be able to sneak into Slytherin's anytime soon.

The inside of the room is made of large orange bricks, there are shelves with plants everywhere, a huge moving painting of Helga Hufflepuff right above the gigantic fireplace, and tiny circular windows next to the ceiling, since this room is actually almost entirely underground.

Rowan and I sit with Penny and Tonks in a yellow sofa next to the lit fireplace, nibbling some roasted marshmallows and drinking a bunch of Butterbeer that all the Prefects (Slytherins excluded) smuggled from Hogsmeade. Who would doubt a Prefect, after all?

Butterbeer tastes deliciously sweet, especially now that I'm surrounded by my friends and a whole lot of enchanted balloons that yell _Happy Birthday Charlie_ when someone pops them.

"Hey, Athena," I look to see Bill Weasley walking to me, wearing a tawny sweater with a big W in the front. "Rumor has it that you need to talk to me."

"Hmmm," I wonder how everyone at Hogwarts knows everything about everybody. "Yeah. In fact I do."

I stand up, leading Bill to an emptier corner of the room, next to a vase with a big trembling plant.

"So," I start saying, closing my arms so no one thinks we're having an intimate conversation.

"Is it true you're looking for the Cursed Vaults?" he asks me, an excited look on his face. "Your brother was the talk of the Weasley household when the Daily Prophet printed his search for the Vaults. Rumor is you're following in his footsteps."

"Jeez," I say. "People _do_ like to gossip around here."

"What can I do for you, Athena?" Bill asks with a smirk.

"Bill, there's something wrong going on in the castle, there's no denying that," I say. "Ben got stuck in cursed ice for two months and I think things will only get worse. So I was thinking if you could help me with this mystery."

"Sure," he smiles. "I'm in."

" _Really?_ " I raise my brows.

"Yeah! Going for an adventure in Hogwarts seems like it's gonna be epic!" he says. "But why are you doing this, if I may ask?"

Here it comes.

The woeful truth.

"I wanna find him," I say. "My brother."

"I'll help you, Athena," he says. "I'd do anything for my brothers and sister too. And this cursed ice is a danger to all of Hogwarts. But why did you choose me?"

"Rumor has it that you're the bravest guy in school," I wink at him.

"That's very flattering," he blushes a little bit, running his fingers through his ginger hair. "But I think our little adventure will have to wait 'till after the holidays. I don't want my mum mad at me during Christmas," he giggles.

"Yeah, that's true," I smile. "We'll have to prepare too."

"I'll practice all the spells I know," he says.

I look at Rowan, who's talking to Penny but incessantly looking at us with very rosy cheeks.

"Rowan is great with spells too," I say, signalizing her with my head. "You two could practice together."

"Yeah!" he says with a smile. "That'd be nice. Especially since I haven't been learning much from our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"I know," I sigh. "She sucks."

I give Bill my address, so we can discuss more about our plan during the holidays. For my complete shock, his family _also_ lives in Devon.

Rowan insists on knowing all about our conversation, even though I've told her everything about five times while we headed back to Ravenclaw's Tower. She's shaking because it's really freaking cold, but I don't think there a need for me to say it's because of her very weather inappropriate dress. Rowan is really, really smart, but I think when it comes to Bill she can get a little overwhelmed.

"He's _so_ dreamy!" she says, lying next to me in my bed. "Did you see how blue and marvelous his eyes are? And that _hair_! So gingerlicious!

"Rowan, I think you've been bewitched," I giggle.

"One day you'll be too," she says. "You'll desperately fall for someone and then I'll have to shove cotton balls in my ears so I don't have to listen you talk about the prince who swept you off your feet."

"Yeah," I sigh. "Perhaps. For now I just wanna survive the holidays."

"And I wanna survive my mom's cooking."

* * *

Lockhart Gardens looks more beautiful than ever with the thick coat of snow covering everything in glistening white. There is a beautiful wreath on the door and flickering garlands everywhere. The inside of the house smells of scented candles and freshly baked gingerbread.

I enter the kitchen, ready to smuggle a cookie to my bedroom, when I bump into a very small thing.

"I'm so sorry, miss!" the little thing says with a very sweet voice and I have to stop and look at it to acknowledge what's going on.

It's an elf. A _house elf_ to be more precise. A house elf wearing a cute housekeeper outfit, with a mob cap and everything, with holes for her giant pointy ears.

"No," I say, blinking a bunch of times to make sure I'm not going crazy. "Hmmm… My apologies. I didn't see you. I didn't… know you were here."

"Oh, good," grandma says, entering the kitchen. "You've met Holly."

"Holly?" I ask, looking at the little house elf, staring at me with her big jade eyes.

"Holly, this is my granddaughter," grandma says. "The one I was telling you about."

"It is very nice to meet you, Miss Athena," Holly says with a genuine smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Holly," I say, and Holly makes a big bow and goes back to the sink, standing over a big wooden box to be able to reach the plates. Not that's she's actually washing them with her hands. She's simply waving her bony fingers and magically making them soap and wash themselves. "Grandma?" I look at my grandmother, who's sipping some tea. "I didn't know you got a house elf."

"It's because I didn't _get_ her," grandma says. "You know how I feel about this slavery thing. I _bought_ her. From the Clements. Remember them? Poor thing was being very mistreated there. So I made an offer and they gladly accepted it. So when we got her, I gave her some clothes and now she's a free elf," grandma smiles happily, looking very pleased with herself. "So I asked if she would like a job in here. You know, a _paid_ job. And she accepted. I even furnished the attic for her, so she has a place to sleep."

I stare at my grandmother, feeling completely mesmerized. From everyone I know in this world, my grandma is one of the best. That's why I'm no idea how Aunt Anise is the way that she is, having such a kind and compassionate mother.

That night, we all sit together to eat. Holly cooked a delicious meal, and she happily sits with us, in a chair grandma made magically taller. I can't stop looking at her, at her big jade eyes, her pointy nose and extremely blissful face. I feel really happy for her, even though we've just met. I'm happy for her freedom, but I'm also happy that now I'll have someone around when grandma and grandpa are too busy.

Holly brings me a cup of tea when I'm back in my new room, sitting in my desk writing a letter for Bill about our plan.

"How is your second year at Hogwarts going, miss?" Holly asks, leaving the steaming cup next to me.

"You don't have to call me Miss, Holly," I tell her. "Just Athena is fine."

She blinks her glistening eyes at me.

"Hmmm," she says. "Okay. _Athena._ "

"It wasn't so good at the Clements, was it?" I ask her, watching as the tips of her ears slightly tremble.

It's freaking adorable.

"No, miss," he says. "I mean… Athena. No, it wasn't so good."

"And how are things now that you're living here?"

"Way better, actually," she smiles. "It feels good to be _free_ , you know?"

"I'm glad you're happy in here, Holly," I say. "Thank you so much for the tea."

When I lay my head to sleep, I can't stop thinking about Holly and all those house elves back at Hogwarts. Amazing things can happen when people are just willing to help. And it makes me think of Ben, and all the things he accomplished just because Rowan and I were kind enough to help him. As my eyes close, all I see behind my lids is Ben's face, his sweet funny smile, and I can't help but to theorize everything that led him to that corridor.

Holly's unanswered question keeps rushing through my mind: _How is your second year at Hogwarts going?_

 _Oh, Holly... A complete mess. A big icy and cursed mess._


	23. Year 2: Chapter 9 - Kindness and Kisses

**Introduction:** Hi everyone! How are you all doing today? Hope you're liking the story! I wanna thank you guys SO, SO MUCH for the 70 reviews and almost 6000 views! You are the best readers ever and you inspire me A LOT! Please, let me know your favorite sorcery/magic related movie/anime. My favorites (aside from Harry Potter) are Practical Magic, The Craft, Warcraft and Little Witch Academia. As you know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Nine – Kindness and Kisses**

"ATHENA!"

It's Ben. His voice echoes through my dorm and I run, desperately, turning corridor after corridor, looking for him inside every classroom, running so fast that my heart might burst.

"BEN!" I yell, a terrible feeling taking possession of me. Like I'm too weak; too slow to find him. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

My screaming hurts my throat, but I can't stop looking for him. Why there is no one in this goddamn castle? Where are all the teachers? Where is _Rowan_?

I continue to run, feeling my pulse in my jugular, my blood flowing so fast that I don't know how I haven't collapsed yet.

"BEN!" I yell again, desperation building in my heart. "WHERE ARE YOU, BEN?"

"I'm right here," his calm voice startles me, and I turn around to look at him.

He looks perfectly fine. His rounded cheeks looking flushed and healthy, his kind brown eyes glistening under the torches.

But there's something wrong.

"Look," he says, reaching his arms to me, and my heart races again.

His fingertips are freezing.

No.

Not freezing.

They're becoming ice.

The ice spreads to his hands and then to his wrists, everything happening so fast that I don't know what I can do to save him. I just stand there, feeling my tears freezing in my cheeks, watching my friend slowly turning to ice, without ever losing that gentle smile, until all that's left it's a frozen statue.

" _NO!"_ I yell, my eyes opening to the pale blue ceiling of my bedroom in Lockhart Gardens.

I cry. My heart is so overwhelmed that there's nothing left to do. I'm drowning in desperation, feeling woeful feelings flooding my mind and soul, even though everything was nothing but a nightmare.

"Athena!" I hear a sweet voice right next to me.

 _Holly._

"I heard you screaming," she says, carrying a tray with a cup of tea and a slice of pound cake.

She leaves the tray over my desk, and tenderly sits next to me in my bed. It's Christmas morning, and apparently grandma gave her a cute little Christmas outfit, all in red and white, and she's even wearing a Santa hat.

 _It's so absurdly adorable that I cry even more._

"What happened?" she asks, sweetly landing her hand, with long bony fingers, over mine. Her skin is so incredibly warm that it instantly makes me feel better.

"Just a nightmare," I sigh and sniff, feeling so grateful for her being here.

"I brought you some tea," she says with a sweet smile. "And the cake is still warm from the oven. Eat. It will make you feel better."

I look at her, feeling my eyes filling with tears again.

"Thank you, Holly," I say, and a single tear falls down my cheek, but she dries it with her hand.

"Don't cry, Athena," she says. "A smile suits you more."

I smile at Holly as she claps her fingers and vanishes right in front of my eyes.

* * *

 _Jonathan Livingston Seagull, by Richard Bachman._

 _The Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco._

 _The Color of Magic, by Terry Pratchett._

 _The Shiny, by Stephen King._

 _Bridge to Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson._

These are the books my parents sent me as my Christmas gift.

No note.

No letter.

Nothing.

Grandma says mom is getting better, though I find it hard to believe. In April it will be two years since Jake went missing and I honestly think that every day that goes by is another day that my mom feels worse.

I am struggling with my conflicts once again. I don't know if it is wiser to forget about the Vaults and leave everything to the will of fate or if I should jeopardize everything once again, trying to find my brother. I have seen what that cursed ice did to my friends and I'm not so sure if I should put them in risk again.

As I climb down the stairs, wearing a green and red dress that grandma made for me, I find Holly finalizing the decorations of the Christmas tree. She simple raises her thin hands, conducting the bells and stars with her magic. It is absolutely endearing how the tips of her ears seem to shake every time she places a decoration.

"The tree is lovely, Holly," I say, sitting at the piano next to the tree. The tiles are cold against my skin, but the melody comes instantly as I play the first chord. " _Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. 'Tis the season to be jolly-"_

" _Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la,_ " the front door opens and a very flashy Gil enters, followed by a long time no see Aunt Anise.

I quit playing instantly, staring at his golden vests which seem to sparkle almost as much as his extremely white teeth. Aunt Anise is purely exultant, her arm hooked in his, a proud smile on her bright red lips.

"Athena, dear," she says, petting my hair like I'm a dog. "How have you been?"

"You would know if you've been attending classes, Anise," grandma says, coming out from the kitchen with a cup of mulled wine. "Merry Christmas, Gil."

"Merry Christmas, grandma," Gil smiles. "I've brought you the most excellent present. My first book, _Break with a Banshee_. I'm sure it will be in your school books list for next year, Athena."

 _I'm sure it won't._

"Oh, mother," Aunt Anise says. "You didn't say you've got a house elf."

"Because I didn't _get_ her, dear," grandma says. "I pay for her work."

"Mother, you've always been too soft," Aunt Anise says. "That's not what house elves are for."

I look at Holly, whose eyes are set on the floor, her face twisted in an expression of hurt. I do not know how things were when she served the Clements, but I'll certainly not accept Aunt Anise making her sad.

"Funny for you to say, Auntie," I say, looking at my aunt with fire in my eyes. "That's what people say about you back at Hogwarts. That being a teacher is something you weren't made for."

She stares at me, a big scowl upon her face, his lips twisted in a very disgusted expression. Something deep inside me says I'll be in deep trouble when she returns to Hogwarts.

 _If_ she returns to Hogwarts.

* * *

Tomorrow will be 1986. Time is running so fast that I can barely see it passing. Seems like it was yesterday that Jake rushed into our home, packed his things and said he would go and never return; that no one believed in him; that he was alone.

Holly noticed my misery; being so incredibly kind to bring me cookies and muffins and pie every time she walked by my bedroom. Her greenish eyes are so reassuring that I feel better just by looking at her.

Grandpa is almost finishing his book, and he promised to send me a published and autographed copy when I'm back at Hogwarts, so I can brag to all my friends about how awesome my grandfather is. He always blushes when I praise him like this, but it's only because he is, in fact, awesome. Sometimes I think it's best to stay in Lockhart Gardens with them, instead with my parents in my scarred home, always waiting for Jake to return.

Bill and I agreed to check the door first, so he knows exactly what we're facing. Only then we'll gather the whole group and face imminent death. I'm surprised about how excited he is about all this, when I, on the other hand, shiver with the thought of returning to that corridor. I really don't wanna put my friends in danger, but they seem to be more determined and fearless than I am.

* * *

We spend the New Year at my Aunt Agrafena's penthouse in London. From there we can see all the fireworks and even pop some Filibusters too, since everyone will be so entertained that no one will notice very strange fireworks popping from the top of a building. Muggles can be really blind to magic sometimes.

The place is absolutely stunning: there are a lot of crystal chandeliers, all magically altered to flicker in different colors, all the sofas are velvety and soft, The Remembralls are playing loud on the radio, and there are a lot of house elves carrying trays of settees and effervescent drinks.

I take a look at Holly, who came with us because we wouldn't let her miss all the fireworks, but she doesn't seem to care. She grabs a tuna settee from one of the trays and eats it with an exultant face. She's wearing a sparkly baby green dress, which makes her eyes look amazing. Grandma is being so kind to her that it makes me feel disgusted with the rest of my family, treating their house elves like slaves.

I didn't get to buy Holly a Christmas present, so I made her a bead bracelet, with beads that resemble candies.

"Because you're just so sweet," I told her, and he looked marveled to the bracelet, which fitted perfectly in her thin wrist.

There are a lot of people I don't know in the party. Some are probably my Aunt's friends, but I already see Ambrosia sitting with a lot of witches her age, but her hair isn't looking the brittle mess as usual. Instead, she's bearing perfectly curled locks, looking shiny and smooth. I wonder if she's using Gil's hair products and if it actually works…

Speaking of Gil, he talking to a very pretty girl, with luscious black hair, who seems to be completely mesmerized by his handsomeness. She keeps touching her hair, blinking her eyes at him, but he doesn't seem to notice. When I walk by them, I can hear he's bragging about the next book he's writing and the new lip care product he's patenting.

I sit with Holly next to the table food, her feet swinging far away from the ground. She's drinking Gillywater and eating some very fancy caramel truffles that a house elf just brought. They all wear the same raggedy clothes, but none of them seem to really care.

From across the room I notice my grandparents speaking to a very good-looking couple, with a boy standing next to them, who appears to be around my age. The boy looks at me with a smile, and for reasons still unknown to me, I feel my cheeks burning.

I spend the night talking to Holly and telling her everything about Hogwarts. She seems to be honestly interested in all the classes, teachers and activities, and even shared a very intriguing piece of wisdom when I told her about Professor Snape.

"You know, Athena," she says with her sweet voice. "Sometimes there's more than meets the eye. If he's so gloomy and angry all the time, maybe he's actually lonely and hurting."

Right before midnight, when we're heading to the balcony, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and the same boy who made my cheeks burn is standing there, his extremely blue eyes sparking under the candle lights.

"Hi," he says, and I notice he has a very strong accent.

"Hi," I say back, feeling my cheeks burning again, hoping they're not too flushed.

"You're Athena, right?" he asks with a smile, and I nod. "My parents are friends with your grandparents."

I smile at him, not very sure what to say.

"I'm Mikhail," he says. "But everyone calls me Misha."

"Very nice to meet you," I say. " _Misha._ "

"You go to Hogwarts?" he asks.

"Yes. And you?"

"I go to a Russian school," he says. "Koldovstoretz."

"Sounds very interesting," I say, feeling like a complete fool. "Is it too cold in there?"

 _What kind of question was that? Am I retarded?_

Misha giggles and his smile absurdly gorgeous.

"Yeah," he says. "Very, very cold."

In those few minutes before the strike of midnight, we stand by the guardrail, talking about our schools. He's a part of the Blue Court, also known as the Court of Wisdom, which is similar to the Ravenclaw House, but it takes only the students with great performance in healing, Herbology and Potions.

What makes me even more mesmerized, apart from the blueness of his eyes, is that his school is actually underwater.

"Sounds awesome!" I say, but then we hear everyone calling for the final countdown, and we look at the night sky, still feeling those awful butterflies bustling inside my stomach.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1," we all count in unison, all hundreds of the most magnificent fireworks explode in the sky, in the shape of stars, and pointy hats, and owls. From the corner of my eye, I notice Misha is looking at me.

 _Oh, God._

I look at him, feeling weirdly exposed, like he could see my soul from those incredible sky blue eyes.

"Happy New Year, Athena," he says with a smile, and politely leans in my direction, gently giving me a peck on the cheek.

 _Oh. My. God._


	24. Year 2: Chapter 10 - Fearless Friends

**Introduction:** Hey everyone! How are you all in this cloudy Thursday morning? I'd like to send a big shout out to Rina, who is sending me sweet messages, and also to Andouille and James, for the kind reviews! I hope you guys are enjoying the story and let me know if you already picked a pet in the game. I chose an owl (even though I'm currently stuck, because the next chapter isn't on yet *crying*). Anyway, I hope you like today's chapter. It's a bit shorter than the others, but I hope it's still enjoyable. As you know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Ten – Fearless Friends**

 _I hope we meet again._

Those were Misha's words to me when he left with his parents once the party was over. His eyes, so very blue, kept glimmering under the light of the fireworks, making me experience sensations I had never felt before.

Maybe this is it.

The one who will sweep me off my feet.

Will I become like Rowan, completely ensnared and bewitched?

 _No._

I have more important things to do than to think of boys. Though I still feel butterflies whenever I think of him, they all seem to vanish when I think of my mother, probably ill and dismayed, wondering when Jake will come home. Or if he'll come home at all.

I don't tell Rowan about Misha. Not that I don't want her to know or that I feel like omitting; I just feel like this is not the time for this. If Misha managed to enchant me that night, there will be plenty of anxious and troubled nights to make me forget all about it.

It's not like I'll be seeing him in Hogwarts or anything.

Bill and I plan on going to the icy corridor on the second Saturday of the year, during the Hufflepuff _versus_ Slytherin Quidditch match. Rowan is already pretty excited, having spent all holidays studying for whatever we must need.

Grandma knit me another sweater; this time it is a baby blue one, made of a very fuzzy and soft yarn. I suppose it will be really useful in that Siberian corridor.

Rowan seems to be extra happy now that Bill is a part of our squad. She keeps saying how amazing he is and I honestly hope that's true.

"He'll sure be a Prefect next year," she says. "And a Head Boy. And my husband, one day."

I chortle, starting on my Potions assignment about Flobberworm Mucus.

 **FLOBBERWORM MUCUS**

 _ **By Athena Lockhart**_

 _Flobberworm Mucus, also known as Flobber Mucus, is a sticky and green substance from the herbivorous worm from which the ingredient's name is derived. The mucus is used to thicken potions and it is one of the vital ingredients to a Wiggenweld Potion._

 _The Flobberworms can grow to a maximum of ten inches, are toothless and possess a brown color. Each ends of the worm is identical and both ends chew vegetation and exude mucus. It moves very little and prefers to live in damp ditches. Though they are not mammals, the Flobberworms are capable to perspire. The worm's perspiration is not an acceptable substitute to the mucus._

When I get up to look for another book about the subject, I see Merula at the end of the bookcase corridor.

Talking to Tulip.

The strangest thing is not that Merula is talking to Tulip. The problem is that they seem to be _bonding_. I squint my eyes at them, returning to my table with concern.

" _Rowan_ ," I whisper. " _Why is Tulip talking to Merula?_ "

" _I don't know,_ " she whispers, looking at Merula and Tulip, who seem to be exchanging smiles. " _It is very disturbing indeed. But at least now Merula has a friend. Maybe it will make her stop messing with us for a while._ "

" _Shhhhh,_ " Madam Pince glances a very ugly look at us, and we return to our essays.

* * *

My thoughts on Merula and Tulip are erased when the dreadful Saturday finally arrives, bringing along a wave of excited Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, rushing to the Quidditch pitch.

And it makes me wonder if I'll always go after trouble during these matches. I mean, I actually considered trying for the Quidditch team during my time here. Maybe next year or so…

While walking with Bill to the corridor, I feel thankful for winter. Everybody is using wool and very thick clothes, so people don't ponder why Bill and I are wearing lots and lots of sweaters. I'm not sure it will help with the cursed ice, but it's worth the try.

Rowan managed to hide the staircase again with a Concealing Charm, but a quick _Revelio_ helped to uncover it again.

"Wicked," Bill says when the giant staircase appears right in front of his eyes, the same flickering veil covering the pathway.

"Come'n," I say. "Let's hurry."

There's the same thick fog covering our ankles, but this time I'm wearing boots, so I don't feel too cold. We rush through the steps and the corridors, until we finally get to the frozen door, that damn cursed snowflake guarding it.

"Careful, Bill", I say. "This was the door that stroke Rowan."

The plan is simple, but I'm not sure if it will work. We'll try hitting the door with _Flipendo_ and then dodge the attacks.

"Ready?" I ask, wand in hand.

"I'm _so_ ready," he says, a big smile on his lips.

He points his wand to the door, a confident expression on his freckled face.

" _Flipendo!_ " we cast in unison, and as soon as our spells hit the door, it strikes back, sending a lot of beams in our direction.

"Dodge!" he yells, and we manage to stay away from those beams.

"Let's cast again," I say, preparing.

"Hmmm," I hear Bill saying, his voice trembling a bit. "A-Athena?"

I look at him and my heart freezes.

Bill is stuck in a huge piece of ice, like the one who held Rowan and Penny ( _and Merula_ ) before, but this one seems to be a little faster, quickly spreading all the way to his neck.

My hand trembles and I have to take a deep breath to help him. I must aim as far from his body as possible, just like Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape did to set Ben free.

 _Please, Merlin. Help me._

" _Incendio!"_

* * *

"So the rumors are true," Chester say, his arms crossed in front of his body, a deep stare of disgust in his eyes. "You've been investigating the cursed ice."

"B-but, C-chester," I try to say, hating myself for my trembling voice.

"You can't even get a word out without shivering," he spits. "What could possibly be worth all of the trouble you get into?"

"I wanna h-help", I say. "My f-friends have been hurt by it. I wanna g-get rid of it."

"You're going to get yourself hurt too," he says, looking deep into my eyes. "Along with losing Ravenclaw house points. I realize this is difficult for you, but please try to stay out of trouble."

I rush to the girls' dorm, grabbing a change of clothes that aren't completely cold and uncomfortable. Though I'm feeling physically warmer right now, my heart still has a frosty sensation inside it, and it's still beating fast ever since I helped Bill get to the Hospital Wing.

 _Is it all really worth putting all my friends in danger?_

I sit on my bed, laying my elbows in my legs, hiding my face in my hands. I don't know what to think anymore and less so what to do. All my friends have been somehow affected by the ice; however, I haven't been frozen or struck yet.

Is it because I am already cursed?

After dinner I go to the Hospital Wing with Rowan to visit Bill.

"I hope that awful door didn't hurt my future husband too badly," she says. "We still didn't have time to study together! What if he dies?"

"Don't say such a thing," I gasp, nervous.

"Relax, Athie," she smiles. "He won't die. He's too strong and tough and marvelous to die."

I have my heart beating painfully all the time it takes to get to the Hospital Wing. I'm feeling so nervous and desperate that I think I may vomit.

"I swear Mr. Weasley," we hear Madam Pomfrey's voice when we get there. "I hope when your younger siblings come to Hogwarts, they don't get into such foolish trouble."

"Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey," he says with a smirk. "They're all well behaved."

"Humpf," Madam Pomfrey snorts. "I'm sure they are."

Bill is already up, with his usual happy smile and looking healthier than ever. He flashes his blue eyes at us and doesn't look at all like someone who has just been trapped in cursed ice.

"Bill," I say. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than ever," he smiles. "When we'll go back there?"

" _Go back?_ " I look at him, wondering if the ice did something to his brain. "Bill, we won't go back."

"What do you mean?" he asks, his smile dissolving into a frown. "I thought you wanted to find your brother."

"I do, but-"

"No but, Athena," he says. "We have a mystery to solve."

* * *

On the Sunday afternoon, Bill asks me to meet him in the Courtyard. I walk there wondering if he'll finally give up on helping me with the Cursed Vaults. I wouldn't blame him; I don't want any of my friends to get hurt because of me anymore.

For my surprise, he's not alone when we get there. He's waiting with Penny, Rowan and Ben.

"What's going on?" I ask, curious.

"We want you to know that we won't let you give up," Penny says.

"Yeah," Ben says. "You helped me with my fear of flying. And though I'm completely terrified of facing that ice again, I'm willing to help you."

" _Guys_ ," I say, my voice suddenly trembling.

Wait. What day is it? Am I PMSing again? Or am I becoming one of those cry babies?

"We wanna help you find your brother," Rowan says. "And help Hogwarts too."

I look at those four idiots, so freaking crazy to follow me to imminent danger, and also so incredibly sweet to me.

If I'm going to face the unknown, better be with these four mentals.


	25. Year 2: Chapter 11 - Enlightening

**Introduction:** Hi everyone! I hope you're all enjoying the story. As you'll notice, the scene where Hagrid comes asking for help to find Fangs is supposed to be on Athena's 3rd year, but I decided to anticipate it. Thanks again for the all sweet reviews! I love reading your opinions! I have a very random question for you today: what's your favorite chocolate? I'm between Toblerone and mini M&M's. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me!

 **Chapter Eleven – Enlightening**

It has been a quiet month ever since my friends encouraged me to pursue with our plans. It still bothers me that they might end up hurt, but they seem to be quite thrilled about it.

The end of February brings a warmer breeze, meaning that spring is just around the corner. Even my nightmares stopped bothering me and Merula hasn't done or said anything too. I haven't spoken to Tulip about her suspicious conversation with Merula, but maybe it's like Rowan said; maybe it will do Merula some good if she has a friend. Even if it's a fellow Ravenclaw.

In a particularly calm morning after the choir practice, while Rowan and I are discussing useful potions that Penny may brew for our quest at the frozen door, a thunder-like voice calls my name.

"Athena," Rubeus approaches us, his beetle eyes sparking under the sunlight. "How yer doin'?"

"Very well, Rubeus," I smile at him, feeling incredibly small next to his gigantic body.

"I was wonderin' if yer could help me wit' somethin'," he says, scratching his tangled hair.

"Of course!" I say. "You found me when I was trapped at that Devil's Snare. I owe you one."

"It's that Devil's Snare the problem," he looks awfully worried. "I want ter know if yer could brew me a Fire-Breathin' Potion."

"Fire-Breathing Potion? What for, if I may ask?"

"I can't tell yer," he says. "Hmmm, could yer do it?"

"Sure, Hagrid," I say, shrugging.

"Jus' don't tell Professor Snape 'bout it, eh?" he says. "An' thank yer so much, Athena. Yer a great witch like everyone says."

I exchange looks with Rowan as we watch Rubeus walk away, the small flowers growing in between the stones being completely smashed under his feet.

"Will you ask Penny for help?" Rowan asks.

"No," I sigh. "She's already too busy working on our plan. I'll figure a way to brew it."

"But do you know how to?" she asks.

"I'll take a look at the library," I say. "Maybe I could ask Professor Snape for help."

"But Rubeus says Snape isn't supposed to know about it."

"I know," I say. "And I won't tell him. I'll just say I wanna learn some more... and hope for the best."

I stop by the library before lunch, researching through every potions book I can but my hands on.

 _Here. Fire-Breathing Potion._

 _Mint, Valerian sprigs, fire seeds, powdered dragon horn and lavender._

 _Dang, it is complicated as hell._

I make meticulous notes about all the ingredients and preparation, keeping the parchment in the pocket of my robes.

The last time I walked to the dungeons in my own will was when I took Ink Cap mushrooms to Professor Snape, in a useless attempt to prove I'm not like my brother. And just like that day, I have an odd feeling in my heart, like that sort of anxiousness you feel before doing something wrong or dangerous.

The Potions classroom door is opened, but Professor Snape isn't teaching. He's actually organizing some bottles on a shelf, the whole class being so silent that all I hear is the sound of the glass touching the wood.

"Professor?" I call in a quiet voice, not to startle him.

"Miss Lockhart," he says, not even looking at me.

"May I have a word?" I ask.

"Be quick," he says, simply.

I walk to him, watching he place the perfectly labeled potions on the shelf, his handwriting so small and intricate that I have to look closer to be able to read.

"Professor, I was studying about some potions," I say, trying to project confidence into my voice. "And I found a particular one that called my attention. It's the Fire-Breathing Potion."

"And what do I have to do with this?" he asks, sharply.

"I was wondering if you could teach me how to brew it."

I feel like I'm sinking in cold water when he glances those jet-black eyes at me, a frown upon his face.

"Why would I do that?" he hisses, and I start to wonder if this was a good idea to begin with.

 _Think of the best flattering sentence you can, Athena._

"I'm just trying to learn as many potions as I can," I tell him. "In my first year here you said you didn't expect us to understand the subtle art of potion making," I try my best not to break our eye contact, even though I feel awfully exposed with him looking at me with such intensity. "But I do."

"I'll rephrase," he says. "Why would I ever teach _you_ how to brew such dangerous potion?"

I close my hands in fists, but he can't see since his eyes at glue to mine.

"Because I admire you," I sigh. "And I have great appreciation for potions. From the beginning this was the class I was looking forward to. And even though you dislike me and think I'm an awful student and a trouble-maker, I never got anything but Outstanding in this class. You are an amazing potions teacher and I want to learn everything I can from you."

 _Damn, that sounded a lot like toadyism._

But then something happens. It is subtle, but I notice the corner of his lips trembling, like he's trying hard to contain a smile.

"Fine," he says. "Your passion almost makes up for your lack of sense."

The iciness that was flooding my soul seems to thaw a little. He doesn't break our eye contact, though, still staring at me with those piercing raven eyes.

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," he says and my jaw drops, though I try to turn it into a smile.

"Thank you, Professor," I say.

"I'll expect you here tonight," he says. "Seven o'clock. I'll brew some of this potion for my personal stock. And I'll allow you to _watch_."

"Thank you so much, sir," I say, my heart flooding with joy.

"Now get out of here," he says, finally breaking the contact and going back to his organization.

* * *

"That," Rowan says while we're having lunch. "Was super creepy."

"I don't know why he always looks at me like that," I say. "Like he's reading my mind or something."

"Maybe he is," she says. "And now he knows your deepest and darkest secrets."

I titter, feeling a bit of nausea with the thought that this may be true. What if he's actually reading my mind? What if he knows what I'm up to?

Aunt Anise still hasn't returned from wherever she is and hasn't finished doing whatever it is that she's doing, and Professor Snape is exultant that he's now teaching us. I wonder if this substitution makes him vulnerable to the curse surrounding this post.

He doesn't look at me at all while he teaches us about _Depulso_. It's bizarre to admit, but he's as skilled with spells as he is with potions. The wand is like an extension of his arm, and I wonder if I'll ever have this sort of ability.

That night, ten minutes before the agreed time, I get to the Potions classroom, but Professor Snape isn't there yet. I sit in one of the desks and wait, my heart racing when a lateral door opens, revealing a humming Professor Snape, carrying a bunch of potion ingredients. When he notices I'm there, he immediately stops humming.

It makes me wonder if he's actually _happy_ to teach me.

"You're early," he says, coldly.

Maybe not.

"Forgive me, sir," I say.

"I didn't take you for a punctual person, Miss Lockhart," he says, taking the ingredients to a table.

"Have you ever seen me get late to class, sir?" I ask, getting up to help him with the ingredients.

He looks at me with piercing eyes.

"Point taken," he says. "But there's no reason to be a smartass in here."

"Sorry, sir," I grin.

"Now," he says, straightening his back and looking intensely to me. He looks incredibly taller when he does this. "This is a highly volatile and dangerous potion. It is not to be used recklessly, for it can melt your flesh to the bone," he raises his brows. "Nevertheless, the mint contained in this potion has cooling properties, allowing the drinker to consume it without melting their tongue."

"Sounds fascinating," I tell him.

"Can you tell me the first ingredient to be added to the cauldron?" he asks me.

"Valerian sprigs," I answer. "Three sprigs, specifically."

"Very good," he says, grabbing a vase with a huge bush of Valerian flowers, carefully cutting three sprigs from it, and adding it attentively to the potion.

"What Valerian sprigs are used for," he says. "apart from this particular potion?"

"They can be used in the Draught of Living Death, the Forgetfulness Potion and in the Sleeping Draught," I answer.

"Correct," he says, heating up the fire under the cauldron. "And how many times I must stir it?"

I grab the instructions from my pocket.

"Three times, sir," I say.

" _Four_ ," he corrects me.

"Sir? The instructions from the book mention only three times."

"What color is the potion supposed to be after the stirring?"

"A pale green."

"Then watch this," he says, stirring the potion three times, the mixture turning to a milky color. He then glances at me with very confident eyes and give the potion another stir, the liquid immediately turning light green.

"Incredible," I say. "How did you know that?"

"Years of experience, I would say," he tells me. "In time you'll learn that you cannot take every instruction seriously. You must experiment sometimes. Take some risks. Make mistakes."

I smile at him, but he doesn't seem to see. He focuses on the bubbling cauldron, continuously asking me questions about the ingredients, and I'm so happy to have my intellect challenged that I can barely contain myself.

"How many fire seeds are to be added?" he asks me.

"Six, sir," I answer, but then he raises his brows at me. "Seven? Eight?"

"See for yourself," he says, stepping aside, handing me a glass full of fire seeds.

I add one seed at a time, waiting for the solution to become bright red and release orange fumes. I add the six required seeds, but the potion is still yellow. I add one more. And another. And another one. When I finally add the tenth seed, the potion turns a beautiful rose petal red, releasing the required orange smoke, smelling like burned wood.

"That's incredible," I say.

"It is, indeed," he says, a very satisfied expression on his face.

We spend almost an hour brewing the potion and discussing the ingredients. By the time we finish, it's dinner time.

He grabs a bunch of empty bottles, cautiously adding the potion to each one of them, even more carefully labeling them all.

"Thank you for the lesson, Professor," I say, helping him put all the bottles in a shelf.

"This," he says, handling me a bottle. "Is for you. _Do not_ use it recklessly."

"I won't, sir," I say, the still warm bottle heating my hands. "Thank you so much."

He nods at me, a very serene look upon his face, and it makes me happier than I sure should. I remember when I first saw him, that darkness and coldness surrounding him, and I wonder if I'm actually breaking his barrier.

I join Rowan at dinner, my soul so exulted and thrilled that every single thing I eat seems to taste incredibly better.

"How was it with Mr. Bat?" she asks.

"Very…" very what? "Enlightening."

"Hagrid will be happy to hear you managed to make the potion," she says.

"Yeah," I say. "It's nice to help people. I'll stop by his hut tomorrow."

"I wonder what the potion is for," she scratches her chin. "Probably something potentially life threatening."

 _Do not use it recklessly._

Yeah.

Let's hope not.

The last thing I want is to set the castle on fire.


	26. Year 2: Chapter 12 - Emergency

**Introduction:** 7000 views! You guys are the absolute BEST! I wanna thank everyone who is reading, the ones who are leaving sweets reviews and messages, and even to the ones who are simply passing by. I hope you're enjoying the story. I'm currently reading the Harry Potter series again and – oh, boy – Harry does a lot of crap. XD Not sure if it's because I'm currently 25 or if it's because I'm writing my version of the game, but it seems Harry does a lot of things without previously thinking about it. Anyway, let me know what you guys think. As you know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Twelve – Emergency**

I rush to Rubeus' hut first thing in the morning, even before breakfast. Rowan decided to sleep a little longer, so I put on my new fuzzy sweater and run to the castle grounds, the warm potion bottle inside my satchel bag.

"Athena!" Rubeus says, carrying a basket full of ginormous turnips. "Nice to see yeh."

"I did it," I tell him. "I've got the potion."

His bushy eyebrows rise in complete surprise.

"Really?" he says. "Thank you! Now we need teh hurry an' use it!"

"Are you going to drink it and blow fire?" I ask him, curious.

"Yer gonna," he smiles. "If yeh don' mind."

"Why me?" I ask him, but not with fear or apprehension. I'm quite curious about why he needs my help.

"It's a long story," he says. "I'll be able teh explain better when we're at the Devil's Snare."

Rubeus leads me through the lonely corridors of the castle, until an apparently harmless door, but when he opens it, I lose my breath. There's tentacles and vines everywhere, climbing the walls, covering the floor…

"You want me to drink the potion and _blow fire_ on the Devil's Snare?" I ask. "But why? I thought you liked them."

"I've been tryin' not the tell yeh because it's so embarassin', but I suppose there's no choice," he says, staring at the floor. "I lost my pup in there."

"Pup?" I raise my brows. "As in a dog? He's in there?"

"I think he's hidin' somewhere behind it," he tells me. "I've bin keepin' him calm by singin' him lullabies. It's why I asked yeh the brew the potion fer me."

"Can't I just use _Lumos_?" I ask him. "Or _Lumos Solem_?"

"The light would jus' make the plant move farther back, an' bury 'im deeper," I can see his beetle eyes are starting to water. "Please, Athena. He's just a puppy."

"Of course, I'll help you," I say. "Relax, I'll do my best."

I enter the room, dark as night, the only light being the one coming from the door. I try my best to avoid any parts of the plant and my heart races when I hear a dog's crying.

I grab my potion, carefully removing the lid, and drinking a good gulp of it. The mint is so strong that it seems I'm drinking a mouthwash. But when I put the bottle back in my bag, I can see smoke coming out from my mouth.

I try my best to aim as far from the crying sounds as possible, and when a huge blaze comes out from my lips, my eyes widen with shock. The Devil's Snare instantly starts shrieking and burning, its tentacles becoming ashes. I blow a few more times, until there's a hole in the plant and I can see the wall behind it.

And then I see it. The most adorable boarhound puppy, all wrinkles and flabby skin, jumping over the shrieking plant, running right to me. I grab him, holding him in my arms, while he adorably licks my face.

"Oh, Rubeus," I say, getting out of that room with that soft little puppy in my arms. "He's so cute."

"Yeh did it, Athena!" Rubeus smiles, celebrating. "Yeh saved my pup! I'll never be able teh thank the enough for what yeh've done fer me."

"No need to thank me, Rubeus. It was a pleasure," I smile. "What's his name?" I ask, putting the dog on the floor and closing the door so he doesn't enter that dreadful room anymore.

"To tell yeh the truth, I haven't had the chance the name 'im," he giggles. "What do yeh think we should call 'im?"

"Me?" I ask, kneeling to scratch the puppy behind his ears. "Well, he's definitely fearless, for playing with that awful plant. And look at these adorable baby teeth. Maybe you should call him Fang."

" _Fang_ ," Rubeus repeats as if he's tasting the name. "I like it. Come here, Fang!"

The puppy rushes to him, jumping and rolling around his feet.

"Yeh're a real hero, Athena," he says, tapping me on my shoulder. My knees bend a little when he does that, but I smile in return.

Fang runs around us, drooling and woofing so adorably that I walk Rubeus to the main door. I watch him go back to his hut, that sweet little puppy running next to him.

* * *

The beginning of spring brings no warmth to the castle. It is strange and grim, because there was supposed to be delightful sunbeams entering through the windows, heating the stone walls and ground. Instead, there's a chilly sensation everywhere, like there's some cold ice current coming from nowhere.

Rowan and I are wearing our Ravenclaw scarves, desperately trying to warm our hands inside our pockets. The castle is absurdly silent; everyone seems to be hiding from the cold, probably warming up in front of a fireplace somewhere.

"Athena, look," Rowan says, pointing to a window.

It can't be so cold, but I can see it clearly: there's frost on the windows.

"Do you think it has something to do with the cursed ice?" she asks me, walking closer so we can warm each other.

"I don't know," I say. "If it has, it's spreading fast. I just hope things don't turn out like in my dreams."

When we get to the Great Hall for breakfast, there are a lot of students missing and some teachers at the main table. Everybody seems to be wearing thick clothes and beanies, and sitting to close to each other that it's like a big nest.

"Did you hear?" Penny says, walking to us. She's wearing a furry hat and mittens. "There's ice all over the dungeons. And a few students are trapped on ice."

" _What?_ " I shriek, my gingerbread cake losing its taste.

"If we plan on doing something," she says. "we must do it now."

" _Now?_ "

"Okay, maybe not right _now_ ," she says. "But we must be ready."

I meet with Rowan, Penny, Ben and Bill in the Courtyard later on that day. The ice doesn't seem to have spread to the outsides of the castle, but it is still very dangerous and threatening. Rowan and I have to dodge several ice rocks spread all around the corridors and the teachers seem to be rushing through the halls, trying to rescue the students.

"Have you been practicing the spells?" I ask them. "Studying, training and preparing?"

"Yes, Captain," Rowan giggles. "I know I said I didn't want to face that door again, but it's pretty obvious we don't have a choice."

"I have a load of useful potions we can use against the ice," Penny says with a smirk.

"I'm practicing every spell I know," Ben says. "Though it gives me goosebumps whenever I think about being trapped in that ice, I think we have a good chance of ending it if we do it together."

"That's the spirit, Copper!" Bill says, tapping Ben on his back. "I'm prepared too. When are we going to do this?"

"I suggest we wait for another week," I say. "Until next Saturday, at least. If the teachers are not able of controlling it, then we'll do it."

* * *

The Hospital Wing is completely crowded. There are students lying on the beds, looking pale and bluish like Ben when he was rescued from the ice, there are teachers bringing in more students, and even Madam Pince is there, lying in a bed next to a window, her lips looking awfully purple. Madam Pomfrey hands me the anti-bleeding potion and I feel a little bit bad for disturbing her while she's so distressed.

That week seems to rush like it's running from the cursed ice too. There are more ice rocks in the castle, and there's even a bit of snow by the windows. It is so terribly cold that not even a hundred coats are enough to keep us warm.

The castle is almost completely desert; the students who aren't trapped on ice somewhere and that aren't in the Hospital Wing are looking for warmth and refuge in their Common Rooms. But not even the fire seems to be enough.

Friday morning, when I get to the choir room, my heart almost bursts.

"Professor Flitwick!" I shout, Professor Flitwick completely surrounded by ice, along with three of my fellow choir companions.

"What happened?" a first year Slytherin girl enters the room, her eyes widening at the sight of our frozen mates. Her name is Mia, but she's overly sweet for a Slytherin.

"Mia, call Professor Snape," I tell her, desperate. "He'll know what to do."

I run through the corridors, feeling my heart beating hard in my chest, my legs hurting from the cold, but I don't stop until I reach my Common Room.

"Rowan!" I yell. "Come with me. It's an emergency!"

She runs with me to the choir room, but Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall are already removing the students and Professor Flitwick.

"Holy shit, Athena," Rowan says, not worrying at all about cursing. "What the hell are we gonna do?"

"We must go to the vault," I tell her. "Right now."

"Athena!" Rubeus voice calls from the end of the corridor. "How are yeh?" From the tone of his voice, it doesn't seem he's _actually_ asking how I am. Is more like "are you safe" or something.

"I'm okay," I tell him. "But Professor Flitwick is not. Neither my choir friends."

"The cursed ice has spread through all o' Hogwarts," he says, grimly. "Professor Sinistra and her students are frozen in the Astronomy Tower. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team is trapped in the Changin' Rooms!"

I look at Rowan and her scared eyes say all I need.

"An' tha's jus' the start!" he continues, exasperated. "The professors are doin' their best ter help everyone, but there's only so much they can do! With Professor Dumbledore off searchin' for the curse-breaker an' all."

"What curse-breaker?" I ask him with a frown.

"I shouldn'ta said that," he says, looking awfully distressed. "I shouldn'ta said that."

"It's okay, Rubeus," I tell him. "Everything will be okay."

It is time. I've been dreading this day ever since Bill was trapped on ice. I really don't wanna see my friends getting hurt, but we need to do something about it.

Maybe not telling a professor about those hidden stairs was a mistake. Maybe I should've told everything to Professor Snape during our private lessons. Maybe I shouldn't have gone looking for the Vaults after all. Maybe Merula is right; I do bring disgrace to wherever I go.

But it's time to fix this.


	27. Year 2: Chapter 13 - Fire and Friendship

**Introduction:** Hello, my beautiful readers/friends! I hope you're all liking the story and I wanna thank all of you for the amazing reviews. I wanna send a big shout out to my French ice cream friend, **Dame Blanche** *winks*, to whom I dedicate this chapter. Hope you like it! And also a big hug to **panda735170** for the sweet reviews! As you guys already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Thirteen – Fire and Friendship**

"This place is incredible!" Penny exclaims when we get to the frozen door, walking by all the stalagmites, stalactites and the snow piles. No need to say she willingly came with us, especially after the ice started to spread inside her Common Room. Ben, on the other side, came whining all the way, with Bill pulling him by his arm.

"No time to be bedazzled," Bill says. "This place is dangerous."

"Wands in hand, guys," I say firmly. " _Flipendo_ isn't working on the ice anymore. Let's all cast _Incendio_ together. On three."

 _One._

 _Two._

"Three!" I shout. " _Incendio!_ "

Fiery lights come out from our wands, hitting the snowflake guarding the door. When our spells dissipate, the floor starts to tremble.

"I'm not liking this," Ben cries.

"Again!" Bill shouts.

" _Incendio!_ " we cast in unison and the snowflake starts to shatter, falling to the floor in pieces.

"We did it!" Penny exclaims, excited.

"Too soon to celebrate," I advise, tightening my wand's grip.

The floor starts shaking, this time a lot stronger, and we have to balance ourselves so we don't fall.

"I am thinking," Rowan says. "Maybe this door wasn't keeping us _out_ of the Vault. Maybe it was keeping something _in_."

"Oh, I'm _really_ not liking this," Ben says, his voice trembling.

The frozen door once behind the snowflake releases a deep sound as it starts to open, and my heart seems to freeze.

"Look out!" I yell as a big suit of armor comes out of the door, bearing a big frozen sword. It has no eyes, but I can sense a piercing stare coming from where its eyes were supposed to be.

I point my wand at it, trying hard not to chitter, a terrible cold dominating me from my toes to my head.

"It's the Ice Knight," Rowan says. "From the code."

The Ice Knight raises his sword, striking it on the air, a wave of icy energy emanating from it, hitting Bill right on his chest. I look at him in despair, as solid ice starts to grow from his feet, rising to his hips, trapping him on the floor. He manages to point his wand at the Knight, but the ice keeps growing.

"Let's test if my Erumpent Potion works," Penny says, drawing a big bottle from her bag, fiercely throwing it on the Ice Knight.

The glass explodes is flashes of green, covering the Knight in explosive greenish flames. The armor makes a crackling sound, but he quickly comes out from the flames, bearing only a rift on the chest.

The Knight raises his sword again, the same icy wave hitting Penny straight in her face. My breath starts to fail as I see her being covered in ice.

"Penny!" I yell, complete despair possessing me. "Ben, Rowan. Let's use _Incendio_!"

Three flashes of red lights erupts from our wands, one after the other, full hitting the Knight, who falls on his knee, appearing to be catching his breath. But before we're able to strike him again, he hits the tip of his sword on the floor, rays of icy light flickering through the ground, hitting Rowan and Ben.

 _Why haven't I've been hit?_

Complete dread floods my soul as I see all my friends being completely covered by that goddamn cursed ice and there's only one thing left to do.

 _Is it against the rules to duel against the Ice Knight?_

I raise my wand, aiming at the Knight, feeling my magic tingling my fingers.

" _Incendio!_ " I shout, flames coming out from my wand and hitting him, another crack appearing on the armor. " _Depulso!_ "

As the Knight is pushed back, I aim at him again.

" _Diffindo!_ " a big cleft is opened where his stomach is supposed to be. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

 _It worked!_

His sword flies away from his hand, sticking right in a big pile of snow. As he reaches for it, I have another spell ready. My heart is racing so much I feel like all Hogwarts can heart it. I gather all the air I can before casting.

" _INCENDIO!_ " I yell as loud as I can, feeling waves of energy flooding through my veins, a strong red beam emanating from my wand, exploding in a cone before hitting the Knight.

When the fire hits the armor, a lot of snow and ice flakes rise from the ground, like dust. I wait with caution, wand in hand, prepared to whatever it is to come.

But when the dust dissipates, the Ice Knight is fallen on the floor, completely still.

I've no time to think. I rush to my friends, casting so many _Incendios_ that I'm almost voiceless.

"Bloody hell!" Rowan says when I pull her out of the melting ice block. "That was intense!"

"Hurry and help Ben!" I ask her, rushing to free Bill and Penny.

Seeing Bill's freckled face and Penny's rosy cheeks brings peace into my heart.

 _Thank goodness they're all okay._

"You defeated a cursed Ice Knight!" Bill says, excitedly, gently punching my arm. "You'll sure be the greatest witch ever!"

"I couldn't have done it without you, guys," I say, my heart flooding with joy now that my friends are safe again.

"We can all hug and celebrate later," Rowan says, her wand in hand. "Now it's time to see what's inside the Vault."

* * *

I never really imagined the Cursed Vault looking like this. It doesn't seem cursed at all. In fact, it just looks extremely inviting and fascinating. I honestly imagined this vault as something icy and gloomy, a place with so much dark energy that we would want to run away from it instantly.

But no.

Instead, when we enter the ice doors, we find ourselves in a warm, comfortable hexagonal room, with an intricate hexagonal pattern on the floor, following the shape of the room. There are two suits for armor in each wall, but none of them is frozen and none of them is moving. They all seem to be made of solid stone. And in the very middle, drawing our attention, it's something I find hard to describe.

It's something between a sculpture and a cabinet, hexagonal as the room, but with thick yellow glass all around it, apparently keeping something extremely shiny inside, for we can see a bright light inside it. The top of the structure is rounded, and the warmth and magical energy emanating from it it's so strong that I'm immediately attracted to it.

"Absolutely amazing," Penny says, looking from side to side with widened eyes.

"There's something strange about this column," Bill says, investigating the big structure in the middle of the room.

"Maybe there's something _inside_ ," I say, my hand being attracted to the yellow glass, like it's a magnet.

It happens so fast that I barely have time to feel the warmth of the glass. Right when my fingertips touch it, all the six walls of the column open like a flower. In the very middle there's a lot of flickering yellow energy, whirling and moving like a spell coming out from a wand. And floating amidst it all, there's a book and a broken wand.

"Not exactly the treasure I was hoping for," Bill says, scratching his chin.

"Maybe they're clues," I say.

I reach out my hand to grab those objects, but as soon as my hand enters the yellow energy, something happens.

I can't see the room where I'm standing anymore. Instead, it's like I'm lost inside that bright light, a very audible voice speaking inside of me.

 _Jake's voice._

" _Find the other four vaults, Athena,"_ his voice is so clear it's like the standing right next to me. " _Find my room._ "

"Your room? I don't understand!" I say, wanting so desperately to hug him.

" _You can't let her get there first!_ " his voice continues. " _Hurry!_ "

"Hey! Hey, Athena! Snap out of it!" I hear Bill's voice talking to me, but it seems to be faded and distant.

"Who is she?" I ask my brother. "Where are you?"

But all I hear is silence.

The light starts to fade, getting transparent and weak, until I'm able to see the vault again.

"Athena!" Rowan's voice is pure concern. "What's going on?"

"I heard a voice telling me to find the other vaults," I tell them, my heart beating painfully inside me. "My _brother's_ voice."

I grab the book and the broken wand, still floating in the air, but now there's no more magical yellow light.

"You guys must think I'm mad like him," I rub my fingers over the cover of the book.

"We believe you, Athena," Ben rushes to say.

"I could believe anything after this," Bill says in a confused tone.

"What did your brother said?" Penny asks me.

"He said we need to find his room," I tell them. "And that there are four more vaults and we have to find them before her."

"Before who?" Penny asks. " _Merula?_ "

"I don't know," I sigh. "Maybe."

"It just keeps getting stranger," Bill says.

"This is his wand," I say, feeling the cold broken wood in my palms. "I have to take it."

"What does the book say?" Rowan asks, everyone getting nearer when I open it and flip through it.

"Nothing," I say. "It's just scribbles and drawings. But it seems like there's a hidden code."

"Do you think it's a clue to the location of the next Cursed Vault?" Rowan asks, excitedly.

"All I know is we need to get out of here before we get caught," I say, my heart beating painfully against my ribcage.

* * *

The hallways and corridors are different when we climb down the vanished staircase. Ben used a Concealing Charm to hide our footprints and to close the wall behind us. What astonishes me the most is the fact that there is no more ice. The corridor is completely clean; there aren't even puddles of melted ice. It's like it had never happened.

We walk by the corridors like nothing had happened, trying not to look too suspicious. Penny kept the book and the broken wand in her bag, and handed it to me when we got to the Ravenclaw Tower.

"We'll meet you guys at the Hospital Wing," I tell Ben, Bill and Penny. "I'll just hide these in a place no one can find."

It is hard to actually find a good hiding place, so I just put the broken wand inside a pair of mittens and put it inside my trunk, and I wrap the book around my fuzzy blue sweater and put it next to the mittens. Just in case it looks suspicious to have only two items inside the trunk, I put all my muggle books in there as well.

Rowan and I rush to the Hospital Wing, wondering if Madam Pomfrey is being able to heal everyone. Ben, Penny and Bill are already waiting for us by the door, but the weird expression upon their faced worry me.

"Guys?" I ask. "What's going on?"

Penny smiles at me.

"There's no one in here," she says. "Madam Pomfrey said everyone just felt great out of nowhere. Like the effect of the cursed ice had just vanished," a smirk forms in the corner of her pink lips.

I sigh in complete relief, feeling a huge burden vanishing from my shoulders. And I know it's irrational and I know it makes no sense, but a waterfall of tears overflows my eyes and I immediately burst into sobs, Rowan quickly hugging me, allowing me to flood her sweater.

"I cried a little bit too," Penny admits.

"A little bit?" Bill mocks. "You almost flooded the entire school!"

"Aren't you exaggerating a bit?" she giggles, punching him in the arm.

Then something hits me; like a spell hitting an ice door... like a potion bottle hitting a cursed suit of armor... like an enchanted car hitting the Whomping Willow...

" _Professor Flitwick_ ," I cry, rushing to the Choir Room to see if he's okay.

"Athena, wait!" Rowan yells, running after me.

I don't stop until I get to the Choir Room, my heart racing faster than a broom.

 _There's no one here._

I rush to the Charms classroom, hearing my friends rushing after me. The sigh of Professor Flitwick frozen and trapped in that goddamn ice is still stuck in my mind. I just wanna make sure he's okay.

We get to the classroom, almost breaking the door as we enter pretty much at the same time.

"What do you think you're doing?" Professor Flitwick's startled voice exclaims, as he's organizing the books over which he usually stands on.

"Oh my God," I say, covering my mouth with my hand to control my crying.

He looks perfectly okay. Not pale, not bluish, not cursed at all. His blue eyes are emanating health and liveliness, his hair looking messy as usual, and a rosy color on his cheeks.

I don't see it coming, but my heart floods with happiness when Bill runs to Professor Flitwick, lifting him from the floor like he weights nothing, giving him a big hug as he circles with him around the room.

"Mr. Weasley!" Professor Flitwick says, breathless. "Put me down right now!"

Bill puts Professor Flitwick down, his cheeks burning red.

"Oh, Professor," I say, rushing to him and hugging him. "I'm so happy you're okay!"

I can't see his face, because I have my face buried in his shoulder, but my heart feels calm and blissful again when he wraps his arms around me, a sigh of relief escaping from his mouth.

I shed another tear, feeling it falling warm down my cheek, a completely different sensation filling my soul. There's no fear, no coldness and no darkness anymore.

I'm pure bliss.


	28. Year 2: Chapter 14 - Promises and Surpri

**Introduction:** Hey, guys! How are you all doing today? I hope you're enjoying the story and I wanna send a big, big hug to every one of you! This chapter concludes Athena's 2nd year and no, it wasn't intentional that both years ended up with 14 chapters. I wanna send a big shout out to **James** , **Andouille** , **Rina** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **panda735170** and all the amazing **guests** who left me sweet reviews and messages. I also wanna thank the 16 of you who made this story part of your Favorites and the 28 of you who are following. I hope I'm not disappointing you. I also wanna say how thankful I am for the 102 reviews and almost 8000 views. Thank you guys SO, SO much! I'll give it a week – maybe less – for all the new readers to enjoy the two complete school years and then I'll begin posting the 3rd year. What are your expectations for the thirteen year old Athena? And I wanted to let you know that I decided to go back to Tumblr, so we can talk more about the game, share theories and stuff; and I can also show you guys some aesthetics and stuff about the characters. If you wanna check it out, this is the link: jillklein .tumblr .com ... As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Fourteen – Promises and Surprises**

 _Miss Lockhart, your activities have not gone unnoticed. We are discussing appropriate consequences on April 7_ _th_ _, at 8 a.m., in Professor Dumbledore's office, when our Headmaster is back at Hogwarts. Professor Minerva McGonagall._

I'm holding this letter when I walk to Professor Dumbledore's office, my heart beating painfully inside my chest, and the dreadful sensation that, yeah, I'm in trouble.

Professor McGonagall is already waiting for me, her black hair tied in a tight bun under her black pointy hat. She has such an intense severe expression upon her face that my insides instantly twist and I feel like I'm about to be sick.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" I ask her, disregard the obviousness of this meeting.

She frowns her black eyebrows at me, an undecipherable twitch on her lips.

"This is not the first appearance of cursed ice at Hogwarts, Miss Lockhart," she says, coldness in her voice. "And also not the first time it has suddenly disappeared."

"It's gone?" I say, trying to project confidence in my lie.

"Like the previous instance, it seems to have appeared when someone tampered with the Cursed Vaults and disappeared when the door was opened," she raises her brows. "I'm sure you can guess who was responsible for opening the door the last time."

" _Jake_ ," his name escapes from my lips.

"We don't yet understand how the Vault reappeared or who first tampered with it this time," she continues. "Truth be told, there's a lot we still don't know about the cursed ice. I won't bother asking if you were responsible. You are the only student who has shown the interest, recklessness and talent to do such thing."

 _Well, Merula was interested too._

 _Wait, she said_ talent _?_

"Fortunately for you, we have not been able to discover any evidence of your direct involvement, so I will not take house points from Ravenclaw," she says. "You will, however, discuss the matter with Professor Dumbledore immediately. He may not be so forgiving."

 _Thank God. My friends won't be punished for my actions._

Professor McGonagall turns to the big golden phoenix guarding Professor Dumbledore's office.

"Iced mice," she says, and the phoenix starts rotating and rising, revealing a spiral staircase.

I swallow hard, nodding at Professor McGonagall before climbing those stairs, finding myself in the most incredible office.

I have never been to Professor Dumbledore's office, having talked to him in the Courtyard last year, but I'm somehow happy to be able to see it. There are books everywhere, from the floor to the ceiling, organized in majestic bookcases. There's also a huge amount of moving portraits of what I imagine being the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses.

Professor Dumbledore is standing next to his desk, which is in a somewhat balcony, with two staircases leading to it. I look at him with heavy heart, but he doesn't seem to be angry.

I climb the stairs, my eyes immediately being drawn to a fantastic phoenix, happily sitting on a perch, staring at me with incredibly kind eyes. I reach my hand in its direction, and the phoenix delicately leans its head, its feathers tickling the palm of my hand.

"His name is Fawkes," Professor Dumbledore says, walking to me.

"Named after Guy Fawkes?" I ask him, but he only smiles at me.

 _I'll take that as a yes._

"You wanted to see me, sir?" I ask him, more for politeness reasons; since I know it's a stupid question.

"It would appear that you discovered the source of the mysterious cursed ice," his voice is kind, but rough, sort of like my grandpa's voice. "You revealed a vanished staircase, explored long-forgotten corridors of this school and broke an ancient curse on a vault that many refused to believe existed despite overwhelming evidence."

I look at him, trying to contain my astonishment.

 _How does he always know everything?_

 _Is he reading my mind too?_

"I'm sorry I entered the vault without telling anyone," I say. "But I saw that same ice in my dreams... I heard my brother's voice-"

"Dreams like the one you describe are very rare indeed," he says. "You might ask yourself whether what you perceived is something else entirely," his eyes glisten from behind his half-moon glasses. "Is there anything you'd like to ask?"

I think for a while. There are so many unanswered questions... so much doubt... so many mysteries…

"Who created the Vaults, sir?" I ask, finally. "And why?"

Professor Dumbledore's face frowns as he looks thoughtfully to his phoenix.

"There are many theories," he says. "Some say they were crafted by one of the Founders."

For some reason, Salazar Slytherin comes to my mind.

"Others say they were built by a paranoid Headmaster," he continues, glancing at the portraits on the walls. "As far as why, most of the speculation is too dangerous and implausible to indulge, until we know the truth. I've been attempting to locate someone who may have the answers."

 _The Curse-Breaker._

"I'm awarding you fifty house points for your heroism in breaking the curse, and once again ridding Hogwarts of the cursed ice," he says, placing a gentle hand on my back. "And I presume Miss Khanna, Mr. Copper, Miss Haywood and Mr. Weasley shall receive the same as well."

" _But how,_ " I start saying, but Professor Dumbledore winks at me. "Thank you so much, sir."

"Thank me by leaving the search for your brother and the remaining Cursed Vaults to me."

His smile is reassuring, but not enough for me to share my findings. But somehow he knew about my friends' involvement, which leaves me thinking if he knows about the broken wand and the book hidden inside my trunk.

So many questions unanswered...

* * *

With the first Vault opened and the cursed ice defeated, it's officially springtime at Hogwarts. The air is warm and inspiring, there are so many different and interesting flowers blossoming everywhere, and the giant squid's tentacles can be seen way more frequently.

It is refreshing to be able to sit under the trees and study for the finals, feeling the scent of the flowers and the heat of the sun.

I smile when I see a ladybug walking over my hand, which is carelessly lying over the green grass. The Potions book is opened over my lap and I'm making several notes on the edge of the pages, with everything I have learned from Professor Snape.

It turns out that he was right. Sometimes it's okay to make some mistakes and order to do something right.

From where Rowan, Ben and I are sitting, we can see Penny, Tonks and a lot of other students sitting under the same sycamore where I once found the Ink Cap mushrooms. Penny is so nice and fun to be around that it's pretty obvious why she's so popular. I see her smile at me and it makes me happy that she's my friend too. Who would've thought that the freak girl with a mad cursed brother would end up with such amazing friends?

Rowan has an exultant smile on her lips. Bill required to study with her for his Charms exams and she said even though it was an innocent friendly study time, she was delighted to sit so close to him, feeling his – according to her – manly and delicious perfume.

 _Bizarre. I know._

There's a couple standing next to the stairs that lead to the castle. The guy, a seventh year Slytherin called Luke, Quidditch seeker, has a Gryffindor girl wrapped in his arms, both lost in a long and passionate kiss. Her hair is ginger and luscious, and her hands are lost under his long jet-black hair. I don't know why, but the vision of that kiss awakens something strange deep inside me.

My thoughts are disturbed by a big puppy, barking and running towards me, his fur nice and warm because of the sun.

"Hey, Fang," I say, rubbing his belly.

Rubeus comes right after him, his beetle eyes sparkling of joy. After the ice curse was broken and the castle returned to its usual warm glory, Rubeus has been cheerier and more relaxed, always working with Fang running around his feet.

Though I know there are still four more vaults to be found, Professor Dumbledore's words keep changing my mind whenever I think of looking for them. Should I really leave the job of finding Jake and ending this curse to him? It makes me think of Rowena Ravenclaw and how she trusted the Bloody Baron to find her daughter. And we all know how that story ended. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore is trustworthy and very, very powerful, but sometimes I think there's a reason I'm having these nightmares and a reason that I'm the only one to listen Jake's voice.

I must be the one to find him. He's my only brother and one of my best friends. It hurts that I haven't seen him in so long and that he's probably lost somewhere. It hurts that my mother is ill because of these problems and all I want in this world is for everything to be okay again.

I close my eyes, enjoying the sunrays touching my skin, remembering the days Jake and I would sit in our backyard, listening to his skilled fingers playing the chords, his beautiful voice filling the summer air.

 _I'm gonna find you, Jake._

 _It's a promise._

* * *

Though I've been a fool and reckless all year long, I manage to end my school year, once again, with nothing but O's. And despite all the house points I managed to get, Ravenclaw didn't win the House Cup. Watching the Great Hall all decorated in silver and green honestly made me feel a bit defeated, but knowing that I actually helped getting rid of a curse helped me cope with that.

And the fact that Merula wasn't smiling when Professor Dumbledore awarded her house with the House Cup also helped.

I'm still not sure what surprised me the most during this year. If it was Rowan, Penny, Ben and Bill proving to be as reckless and adventurous as me, if it was Professor Snape being happily willing to teach me a potion in private, if it was us finding the vault before Merula, if it was all the points I got for Ravenclaw for breaking a bunch of rules…

Or if it was the fact that my dad came to pick me up at King's Cross.

I haven't seen him ever since he left with mom to look for Jake. Little did they know Jake has been involved with the Cursed Vaults all this time, not simply lost somewhere in the world.

Dad looks older. Though he's only 37, he has deep purple circles around his eyes, a lot of wrinkles that weren't there two years ago and a very defeated posture. Though he greets me with a smile, it's a sad, frustrated one.

"Hey, kiddo," he says. "Let's go home."

He wraps his arm around me, leading me to the car, to our long drive back to sunny Sunderland.


	29. Year 3: Chapter 1 - A Gorey Demise

**Introduction:** Oh. My. Glob! After almost ten days without uploading, I decided to come back and post the first chapter of Athena's 3rd year at Hogwarts. I wanna thank you all for the patience, love, support and sweet messages. I felt like the chapters are getting a little bigger, but I guess it's because the third year was way more interesting than the previous ones. I hope I'm still up to your expectations and that you enjoy this year as well. For all the new followers and readers, please leave your review – positive or negative – so I know what you're thinking about the plot. Your opinion is really, really, really important and you guys really keep me inspired! This was, so far, the hardest chapter to write, because it was just too emotional. I hope you like it and even if you don't, let me know why. This chapter's title was inspired by the same name song by Creature Feature. I wanna send a big thank you to all the new followers and a big shout out to everyone who are leaving sweet reviews. As I mentioned before, I created a Tumblr to be closer to you guys (jillklein . tumblr . com) and now I created an Instagram account so I can share images and stuff with you guys as well ( jillklein. ff). As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter One –** A Gorey Demise

ANNETTE LOCKHART

BELOVED DAUGHTER, WIFE AND MOTHER

15/07/1949 – 10/07/1986

Wake up, Athena.

Just wake up.

Open your eyes.

This is just a dream.

"I'm so sorry, honey," Wendy says, landing her hand on my shoulder.

But I don't see her.

I see nothing and no one.

My heart is hurting so much that I don't know how I'm still standing. There are no tears in my eyes, but only because they're frozen inside of me. The only thing keeping me whole is Holly's hand holding mine.

This is not a dream.

And this is not a nightmare too.

I feel my knees getting weaker and a woeful darkness filling my soul. Holly holds my hand tighter and I feel another piece of my heart shattering. There are so many people here, but I can barely see their faces. Wendy Grail was my mum's best friend, ever since they started working together at the Ministry. I see Wendy talking to my dad, but I hear nothing. Everything is a blur and every voice is soundless.

The world is dark and silent.

Just like my mother's grave.

 _How could this happen?_

* * *

Sunderland looked brighter than ever when my dad parked the car in the garage, helping me grab my stuff. Twilight spent the entire ride inside his cage, in my lap, his head hiding underneath his wing.

It was a silent drive, for my surprise. Dad managed to spend the whole five hours without saying anything, simply turning the steering wheel from side to side, turning corners and curves, a gloomy expression on his face.

I said nothing. For some reason, I thought it was best to respect his silence. We would have plenty of time to talk when we got home.

I felt my heart rejoice when I saw my home again: the short fence, the beautiful green lawn, the gorgeous dahlias under the windows, and a beautiful blue-eyed blonde woman waiting for us by the door.

 _Mum_.

I ran to her, feeling her arms hugging me tight, a soothing sensation being poured inside my heart. I thanked the skies so many times for bringing her back to me that I barely noticed that she wasn't smiling.

It was strange coming back to my bedroom, trying hard to ignore the locked door across from it, organizing all my school books over my old desk like it was supposed to have been from the start. I let Twilight's cage opened, but he just continued to sleep, until the warm night feel upon the city and he finally decided to fly and get to know the neighborhood.

Dinner was a little bit odd. Dad ordered pizza and even though I was actually longing for my mum's delicious cooking, I said nothing. We sat in the dining room, eating and drinking Tizer, when mum finally decided to start a conversation.

"Honey," she said, her sweet voice still sounding a bit sad. "How is school?"

 _Apart from cursed and dangerous?_

"Amazing, mum," I said. "The castle is fantastic, I'm a straight O student and I have really good friends there."

"I'm really proud of you," she said, placing her hand over mine, flashing a smile in my direction.

 _Why such sad smiles?_

She continued to make me questions about Hogwarts, my friends and teachers, but her eyes looked completely lifeless, which made me hesitate before each answer.

"And what about Quidditch, honey?" she asked me. "Planning on joining the team?"

"I was thinking about it," I said. "I'm already a member of the Frog Choir. But I think Quidditch would be nice too."

"You dad and I were players too," she said. "And you're very talented with a broom."

"Thanks, mum," I said.

That night, when I returned to my bedroom, I started writing a letter to my grandparents, just to say how much I'd miss living with them, but how happy I was to be back home.

"Athena," my dad said, standing by the door. "We need to talk."

I nodded, somehow already knowing what it was all about. He sat on my bad, staring at me with the same opaque eyes as my mum, but there was something of anger in them.

"Dumbledore wrote me a letter," he said, his voice calm but sharp. "About the irresponsible things you've done so far."

"Dad, I'm-"

"It doesn't matter what you have to say," he interrupted me. "Your mum was finally discharged from that place and I don't want her to be ill again. Do you understand?"

I nodded again, playing with the raven quill grandpa gave me, knowing that nothing I could say would make my dad any less angry.

"Your brother was reckless enough to put us in this situation," he continued. "I had to fight for your mother's job at the Ministry. Do you think they care that your brother is missing?"

"Dad, I think I found a way to rescue Jake," I said, ready to share with him everything about the Cursed Vaults.

Maybe we could even find Jake together.

"I don't wanna hear a word about it," he hissed, his tone so sharp that I contracted myself on the chair. "Your mother is sick because of him. This is all _his fault_."

"But you said she was discharged," I said. "She's recovering."

"Of course she's not recovering, Athena!" his voice raised and my heart started beating hard. "She's at the edge and all your recklessness will only make her worse! Do you understand? Stop looking for your brother. He will _never_ come back!"

He got up and left my bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

My quill fell from my hands as my eyes immediately started watering. This is not how coming home was supposed to be. After not knowing from my parents for so long, I didn't expect coming back to be yelled at and blamed for trying to make things right.

I barely slept that night, staring at the ceiling, feeling the tears falling down my face, my heart aching with my father's words. When I finally closed my eyes and fell asleep, another nightmare came to haunt me.

I was standing in the middle of a dark room, the only light coming from a candle over a table. I walked to it, feeling cold and scared, looking at a shiny object next to the candle.

A key.

As I reached out to grab it, another hand was faster than mine. My eyes met those mischievous violet ones, and Merula smiled at me – a devilish smile – and ran, vanishing in the darkness.

I wake up feeling awfully cold, like I've been wandering around that icy corridor again. I don't want to think about the meaning of this nightmare and even less about Merula. I rub my eyes, seeing the light flooding my bedroom, and Twilight sleeping on my bed's footboard.

The rest of my first week at home was pure silence and loneliness. My parents would go to work early, so I could barely see them during breakfast. There was still a gloomy atmosphere hovering over them, and I swallowed Jake's name every time I thought about mentioning him. Mum would flash me sad and dismayed looks and then go back to her tea.

It was time to face the music.

This wasn't my home anymore. This was just a terrible and tragic scenario. And even thought it was hard to admit, I really missed Lockhart Gardens. And my cheery grandparents. And Holly.

But what kind of daughter was I, who immediately wanted happiness when my family obviously needed my support?

Mum seemed to look better on the 6th, when she mentioned throwing a small birthday party to celebrate her 37th birthday. She had a much happier expression and was drinking tea and eating fruitcake like in the old days, when we would talk about Jake's experiences at Hogwarts and all the problems in the Ministry. But that smile didn't last long.

On Monday she started looking gloomy and melancholic again, coming back from work and going directly to her bedroom, leaving me to dine alone with my equally dark and unhappy father. He didn't speak to me after his lecture when I came back home and I honestly didn't think he had anything nice to say.

On Wednesday mum seemed to be happy again, humming around the house, organizing everything before going to work, a sweet smell of apple pie coming from the kitchen.

"Good morning, honey," she said, giving me a smooch on my head. "How does it feel to be thirteen?"

I haven't thought much about my age ever since I came back home. My friends had all given me a lot of fun and delicious candy, which Bill had bought during a trip to Hogsmeade. I was noticing a few changes in my body too, like growing breasts and somewhat wider hips, but nothing too drastic.

"It's a little weird, actually," I said. "I'm not used to having boobs."

"Oh, honey," she giggled. "We must go on a little date, then. To get you some bras. Just us girls," and then she winked at me.

I smiled at her, feeling really happy that she was getting better. She went to work with a big smile and came back looking tired, but still happy. During dinner, we talked and laughed a lot, and even my dad engaged on the conversation, his laughter something I haven't heard in years.

I went to sleep feeling peaceful and jolly, falling into sweet dreamland, diving into a happy dream, no nightmares in the horizon.

It wasn't an actual dream; it was more like a memory. Jake and I were playing with our parents' old brooms, throwing balls to each other, while mum and dad were sitting in the backyard, drinking lemonade and laughing. It was a sweet memory; simple, but I woke up feeling incredibly nostalgic.

The house was still dark when I got up, and a quick look on the clock made me realize it was still five in the morning. I walked by my parents' bedroom, whose door was opened. My dad was deeply asleep and my mum's side was made up, completely wrinkle free, but she wasn't there. I went to the kitchen, wondering if she would be there with insomnia or something, but the kitchen was also dark. From the living room I could see a dim light, so maybe my mum was reading a book. I grabbed a glass of water and walked to her, thinking that we could maybe talk a little until it was time for her to go to work.

She was sitting on her favorite armchair, right in front of the fireplace. I could see her hand gracefully relying over the armchair's velvety arm, and a lock of long icy blonde hair curling next to it. I couldn't quite explain why, but I started feeling cold and my insides started to twirl uncomfortably.

"Mum?" I said, but she said nothing.

I walked to her, ready to run my fingers through her hair, but then I lost my breath midways. The glass fell from my hand automatically, shattering in a thousand pieces, producing a loud sound on the wooden floor.

"What's going on?" I heard my dad's voice, climbing down the stairs to where I was standing, a scream stuck on my throat, my heart breaking so painfully that I fell to my knees.

 _No._

* * *

"She drank poison," I hear Ambrosia talking to Gil, sniffing to control her tears. "You know she's been hurting because of Jacob. I think she just wanted some rest."

"Her daughter found her in the living room," I hear Acacia talking to another friend of my parents from the Ministry. "She was holding a bottle of poison and her son's picture."

"Annie has always been very sensitive," Wendy says to my grandma. "But I never thought she could-"

"It happens," grandma tells her. "A mother's heart is fragile."

"I know," Wendy says in sobs. "I don't know what I'd do if Eric went missing."

I stare at my mother's gravestone, her name scripted on the marble, and those words making no sense in my head. Instead, her voice fills my mind, repeating and repeating the same name over again, exactly like my nightmare, where she was desperately looking for Jake.

I hear a lot of kind words and hug a lot of random people, but I barely remember their words when I go back home with my silent dad, his face distorted in a mixture of deep sorrow and anger, and I remain quiet until he parks the car.

It's very tempting to just crawl into my bed and wish to sleep forever, but my father stops me, rushing to my bedroom like a lightning, grabbing my trunk and throwing all my things inside it.

"Dad!" I call him, watching him put all my clothes, my books and other objects inside the trunk. "What are you doing?"

"You're going to Plymouth," he says, his voice sharp like a knife. "To live with your grandparents."

"But they live in South Hams," I say, exasperated, wondering if I should stop him or let him release his rage.

"No," he says. "Not with Agatha and Sebastian. You're going to live with my parents."

" _What?_ " I ask. "Why? Don't you want me here anymore?"

He turns to face me and his eyes are livid, his lips twisted in a furious grin.

"No," he says. "I don't."

"But, dad-"

"You," he says, lifting his finger at me, inches away from my nose. "It's all your fault."

" _Dad,_ " I say, feeling the tears coming back to my eyes. "You don't know what you're saying. You're angry, you're sad, I understand."

"NO!" he yells, making me instantly step back. "YOU DON'T! SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! SHE _KILLED HERSELF_ BECAUSE OF YOU!"

" _No,_ " I cry, my hands shaking so much that I close them in fists.

"You ended her when she found out you've been looking for those Vaults," he continues, lowering his voice, but keeping it sharp and angry. "Just like your brother."

"I've been trying to find him!" I yell. "I wanted to help!"

"YOU WANT TO HELP?" he shouts. "THEN _GET OUT_ OF HERE!"

He closes my trunk with a slam and pulls it downstairs, his steps so heavy that it's like the world is ending.

 _But isn't it?_

I follow him, so many tears coming down my cheeks that I can barely see. He already stuck my trunk inside the fireplace, a bag of Floo Powder in his hands.

"I already asked the Ministry to connect our fireplaces," he says, coldly. "They're waiting for you."

I couldn't think straight. There was so much pain inside me that I only did what he said. I grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and entered the fireplace, my hearting breaking again while he hands me a piece of paper with my grandparents' address. I look at him, at his handsome but angry face; a face I don't even recognize anymore.

" _28, Millwood Drive, Leigham, Plymouth,_ " I say, swallowing my tears, my eyes lost in those words which make no sense to me.


	30. Year 3: Chapter 2 - Broken

**Introduction:** A big hello to everyone who's reading this! I'm so glad you're enjoying this story and leaving such adorable reviews and messages. I wanna send a big shout out to **James** , **Rina** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **10868letsgo** , **H. E. Vaughn** and **Andouille** for the lovely reviews!I know the past chapter was really depressive, but things will get better. _I promise_. I just wanna warn you guys that I'll make some mentions about religion in this chapter, so please, don't be offended by it. I've been researching about the wizarding world and religion, and apparently they don't share Muggle religions or beliefs. So it's understandable – mainly after what happened last chapter – that Athena is pretty much skeptical about everything God related (not meaning to be disrespectful to other religions). Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me!

 **Chapter Two – Broken**

I'm falling apart.

I've been spending the days lying in the guestroom bed, staring at the pale yellow ceiling; feeling like my body doesn't belong to me anymore. My share of tears is long gone and I can't seem to cry, even with my heart aching like never before and my thoughts floating lazily through my mind.

Dad hasn't written or called ever since I got here, three weeks ago. I've sent a letter to Lockhart Gardens through muggle mail, but there was no answer. They're probably struggling with mum's passing; after all, she was their daughter as much as she was my mother. Nevertheless, I miss them with every inch of my being.

Grandma Joanne insists that I call her Nana and that I call Grandpa Adam, Papa. That's how their muggle grandchildren call them, my cousins Tim and Rebecca. They stopped by for a visit a few days ago, with my Aunt Josephine. _Nana_ and _Papa_ specifically said that I wasn't supposed to mention magic or anything related to it. Though Aunt Josephine knows dad is a wizard, my cousins know nothing about it.

I have never been at their house in Plymouth. They live in one of those typical row houses, all made of reddish bricks with white windows. The guest bedroom – my bedroom for now – it's all chintz, from the curtains to the pillows. And right in front of my bed there's a big crucifix, bearing the image of Jesus, his arms opened, nailed to the cross; so detailed that I can count the thorns in his crown.

"Athena," Nana calls from the door. "Dinner is ready. Go wash your hands."

"Yes, Nana," I say, getting up and going to the bathroom.

I turn on the lights, an awfully pale girl staring back at me. She has my electric blue eyes and my light blonde hair, but she doesn't look like me. She has puffy eyes and horrible dark circles; her face is sunken and pasty white and she's scarily thin. There's no spark in her eyes. No life. Nothing.

The water is cold against my hands, though it's not as cold as the pain piercing my heart. I stare at my reflection, wondering if I'll ever smile again.

They're already waiting for me at the dining table, a roast dinner that probably tastes great, but I feel nauseated just to see it. I sit at my usual chair, holding their hands as grandma begins the third prayer of the day. Her nails are painted in a soft peachy color and her skin is wrinkly and soft against mine. We always pray before we eat, though I don't actually pray with them. I know I'm supposed to close my eyes and ask Jesus for his blessing, but I just look at my plate, thinking about all the paths which led me to the place I am right now.

"Our Father, who art in heaven," she says. "Hallowed be thy Name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

I'm not even listening anymore. My whole body aches and I feel terribly tired. I feel Nana's grip tightening as she says _Amen_ , and they start putting food on their plate.

"Eat, Athena," she says and it's more like an order than a request.

I put a few potatoes and carrots in my plate, but it all tastes like cardboard. I eat it mechanically, just so I don't hear their complaints, and after a very quiet dinner, I'm allowed to go back to my room, my legs shaking every step I climb.

Back to my bed, I close my eyes, feeling that annoying itchiness in my nose that precedes the tears, but they never come. I just lay there, feeling so much pain that I can barely move. If there's anything I'm praying for, is that September 1st arrives faster.

* * *

An owl manages to find me, gently tapping its beak on my bedroom window, and I rush to open it. The letter brings a pinch of happiness to my heart, as I see the well-known seal, the words written in dark green over the thick parchment envelope.

 _Third year students will require:_

 _* The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3, by Miranda Goshawk_

 _* Intermediate Transfiguration, by Emeric Switch_

 _* Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, by Newt Scamander (if attending Care of Magical Creatures)_

 _* Unfogging the future, by Cassandra Vablastky (if attending Divination)_

 _* Numerology and Grammatica, by Dashiel Whitmore (if attending Arithmancy)_

 _* Spellman's Syllabary, by Cleo Howler (if attending Study of Ancient Runes)_

I look inside my trunk, grabbing a linen bag full of galleons, sickles and knuts. Probably enough for me to buy all these books and some new robes. I've grown a lot since the summer started, but also lost a bunch of weight. I just wonder how I'll be able to go to Diagon Alley if Nana and Papa give two craps about magic.

I bring the subject during breakfast, while Nana spreads a bunch of jam over her toast.

"Nana, Papa," I say, holding my cup of tea between my hands. "I need to go to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies."

Papa raises his brows at me, his grey eyes flashing from behind his thick glasses.

"We'll take you to the station," he says, simply.

They give me some muggle money so I can buy my tickets, and I put it with the rest of my cash, inside my mum's old bag.

The ride to the station isn't long, but it's so quiet that I can almost hear my heartbeats. They drop me there, waving at me as I enter my four hour long train journey from Plymouth to London.

It's almost noon when I get to the Leaky Cauldron, heading to the brick wall in the alley behind the bar, drawing my wand from my bag and tapping the bricks to reveal the well-known archway.

There aren't many people here today, but maybe it's because I came right when I got the letter. Most students will probably come one or two days before school starts.

I head to Flourish & Blotts to get my books, then to Madam Malkin to get my new robes. I feel tempted to get some ice cream when I walk past Florean Fortescue, but the nausea comes back as soon as I think about it.

My jeans are a little loose around my hips and I have to pull them up from time to time. I stop in front of the Magical Menagerie, looking at all the weird toads, owls and cats inside the store, wondering how Twilight is; if my dad is taking good care of him of if he simply closed all the windows, and Twilight is out there somewhere, wondering where the hell I am.

I swallow hard, feeling the tears that aren't coming, and continue my walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, carrying the heavy bags, my hands aching with the weight. I probably wouldn't be thinking they're so heavy if I weren't feeling so weak. Right when I'm walking out the door, I bump against someone.

"Athena!" the familiar scent of tobacco invades my nostrils.

And then I feel it.

The tears.

" _Grandpa_ ," I say, wrapping my arms around him, burying my face in his vests, crying so hard that my hands start to shake.

He doesn't say anything; he simply hugs me, running his fingers through my hair, his heart beating so fast that I can feel it. I look at him, his bright blue eyes staring back at me, a single tear trembling in the corner of the right one.

"Where have you been all this time?" he asks, holding my face in between his hands.

"In Plymouth," I sniff. "Living with my dad's parents."

Grandpa presses his lips together, his face turning pure anger. He grabs my bags from the floor, leading me back to the bar, offering his arm for me to hold.

I have Side-Along Apparated a few times before, so I knew exactly what to expect. I closed my eyes, feeling my whole body being pushed from side to side, a huge pressure inside my skull, a lot of shaking and whirling, until I felt my feet back on the floor. I opened my eyes slowly, feeling my stomach a little bit sick, but also pure bliss inside my heart.

 _Lockhart Gardens._

* * *

"He sent her to Plymouth!" grandpa rampages, walking from side to side of the living room, talking to my grandma.

I'm sitting at the top of the stairs, in a place I can hear them, but they can't see me.

"We've been trying to locate her for weeks!" he shouts. "And all this time she's been here in Devon!"

"Christopher has crossed the line," grandma says, but her tone is much politer and contained. "Have you looked at her? She's so thin! I don't care if he's sad. He doesn't have the right to treat her like this!"

"We'll go there tomorrow," grandpa says, lowering his voice. "To Plymouth. We'll get her stuff and then go to Sunderland. I need to have a good talk to Christopher."

"Indeed," grandma says, and when I hear she's coming to the stairs, I rush to my bedroom, throwing my weak body over the bed, happy to see the painting of lilies on the wall.

Grandpa is furious. I didn't even say much about living with Nana and Papa, and he already started turning red and outraged, stomping around the house like an erumpent. He said he stopped by the house in Sunderland after the funeral, but I wasn't there anymore. Dad didn't want to tell him where I was, even after grandpa threatened him. They've been trying to locate my ever since, but dad advised the Ministry not to announce my location.

Twilight is over one of the columns of my bed, blinking his yellow eyes at me, and his stare is strangely consoling. Grandpa said he got here a few days after the funeral, looking awfully tired. That's when they knew something was terribly wrong.

I Apparate with them in the very next morning, right in front of Nana and Papa's house. From the opened kitchen window I can see them having breakfast, not worried at all that I didn't come home last night.

Grandpa rushes to the door, knocking so hard that his knuckles turn red. It is Nana who opens the door, an astonished expression on her face.

"Sebastian!" she exclaims. "What's going on?"

"Go grab your stuff, Athena," he tells me, and I rush to the guestroom, packing everything as quickly as possible, listening to an argument downstairs.

"Christopher said it would be good for her to live here!" I hear Papa yelling.

"To the hell with Christopher!" grandpa shouts. "Do you even care about her? Have you seen the state she is?"

"It is best for her to be away from all that madness!" Papa yells. "Magic is what drove her brother crazy and led her mother to suicide!"

I run to the front door, bringing my trunk with me, just in time to see grandpa aiming his wand at Papa. Thank God there's no one on the street.

"Don't make me hex you, Adam," grandpa warns, his hand holding the wand really tightly.

"Grandpa," I say, resting my hand on his arm. "I'm ready."

Grandpa lowers the wand, looking at Papa and Nana with pure anger, and offers his hands to grandma and me. When I open my eyes again, we're in my house's lawn, back in Sunderland.

The house seems even colder than I remember. There are a bunch of empty bottles all around the house, over the kitchen table and next to the sofa, and the air smells moldy and dusty. I go to my bedroom, my legs weak every time I climb a step. I grab Twilight's cage and the rest of my stuff, putting everything I can inside my trunk. When I get out from my room, my eyes glue to Jake's bedroom door.

"Is it locked?" grandma says, drawing her wand from her pocket. " _Alohomora_."

I hear the door being unlocked, and I open it hesitantly.

The room smells dusty like the rest of the house, but it still smells like Jake. It looks exactly like I remembered: his guitar lying over the bed, his school books over the desk, the jukebox next to his wardrobe…

"We should take his stuff too," grandma says. "Your father won't care, for sure."

She uses _Reducio_ to turn everything small enough to fit in her bag. By the time she finishes, there's only the furniture left.

A loud sound coming from the fireplace warns us that dad came home early. I don't have time to say a word, 'cause grandpa is already rushing down the stairs, wand in hand.

"Sebastian!" I hear dad's voice as I follow grandma to the living room. "Agatha! What do you think you're doing invading my house? Athena! You should be in Plymouth!"

"She won't go back to that place," grandpa says, a surly tone in his voice. " _Never again_."

"I am her father!" dad yells. "My word is law!"

"Your word means less than nothing to me," grandpa spits. "Just because Jacob is missing and Annette is gone doesn't give you the right to ditch your daughter in the middle of Muggles."

"Annette is dead because of her!" dad points at me. "Because of _them_!"

I know that he means Jacob and me.

"My Annette is dead because _you_ failed to help her," grandma hisses, looking at dad like he's a useless worm. Even though she's shorter than him, her stare is pure rage.

"Athena will live with us," grandpa says. "And if you don't get your shit together, you'll never see her again."

"I won't allow it!" dad yells, drawing his wand, but before he can point it at grandpa, grandma hits him with a non-verbal spell, his body being pushed back, colliding with the bookcase.

I'm glued to the floor, not quite knowing what to do. I want to feel sorry for my dad, because the only reason he's done all this is because he's lost the love of his life. It's not entirely his fault, but things didn't have to be this way too. We could've stayed together as a family, helping each other to cope with everything. Instead, he chose to get rid of me.

As Professor Dumbledore once said, our choices define who we truly are.

"Let's go, sweetheart," grandpa says, offering his arm back to Lockhart Gardens.

* * *

"Athena," Holly says, entering my room with a tray full of food. "You have to eat something."

"I'm not hungry, Holly," I say, but she leaves the tray over my desk even so.

I'm kneeling on the floor, organizing my trunk to go to King's Cross tomorrow. Holly walks to me, holding my face between her warm hands. Her jade eyes bring a heavy pressure to my heart.

"I wish you could stop feeling sorry for yourself," she says. "Your mother wouldn't want you to give up."

"But _she_ gave up, Holly," the tears come back, flooding my eyes. " _She gave up._ "

"You're stronger than her," Holly says, wiping my tears with her fingers. "You were meant for great things in this world. So fight, Athena. Just keep fighting."

"But how do I keep fighting if my whole world is falling apart?"

Her smile is sad, but also full of wisdom.

"Rely on your friends," she says. "And know you have a home to come back to, with a family who loves you very much."

I hug her, her small body extremely warm and comforting. She hugs me back, her pointy ears getting tangled in my hair. And then I promise.

I promise I'll keep on fighting. I promise I'll find Jake.

Because I have friends who believe in me.

Because I have a loving home to come back to.

And because I have Holly.


	31. Year 3: Chapter 3 - Freedom and Truth

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you all doing in this beautiful sunny Thursday? I wanna send a big hug to everyone who's reading and leaving sweet reviews. Thank you so, so much! I have asked before who's your favorite Hogwarts teacher, but now I wanna know your favorite class/subject. Mine is definetely Potions; mainly because I absolutely adore cooking. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying Athena's 3rd year. I also wanna know your opinion about the theories that say R is actually Rowan. God, if that's true, you can expect Athena's tantrum and totally kicking Rowan's butt *giggles*. Also, I'm now using Instagram to post some characters' aesthetics. If you wanna follow me, it's (remove the spaces) jillklein . ff. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Three – Freedom and Truth**

At last, September 1st is here. Though it felt good to spend these last days with my grandparents, I can't wait to go back to school and occupy my mind with everything I can. I bought all the books from the list and organized my third year schedule. I won't have much time to think, thank God. The few hours I'll have to sit and relax I'll probably spend studying, doing my essays or looking for Jake.

Grandpa signed the Hogsmeade permission a few days ago. When the permission arrived with the supply list, I completely ignored it. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to go, but when grandpa asked about it, talking excitedly about Zonko's and Honeydukes, I felt thankful to be in a place where magic is actually appreciated.

I'm eating breakfast with grandpa, grandma and Holly in the garden, enjoying the summer air and the smell of the flowers. I had almost forgotten how Holly looks adorable in her housekeeper outfit.

"So, darling," grandpa says, dinking a biscuit in his tea. "Are you going to try to join Ravenclaw's Quidditch team this year?"

I blink a few times before answering. It is true that I wanna fill my schedule as much as possible and keep my mind busy. The Quidditch team has always been on my plans, but I haven't practiced at all this summer. I suppose, nevertheless, that I could try. I mean, I tried to join the Frog Choir and I did it.

"I suppose," I say, eating a biscuit.

"You've always been quite light and persistent," he continues. "I think you could be a great seeker."

"Really?" I raise my brows at him. "I guess. Would it be okay if I took one of the old brooms to school?"

" _Well,_ " grandpa says, a secretive smile on his lips.

"Oh, come on, Sebastian," grandma says with a smile. "Just do it already."

"If you insist," he says, grabbing his wand and aiming it to the sky. " _Accio Silver Arrow_."

I don't quite understand what's going on and why they're giggling so much, but then I spot it. Coming out from the attic window, so fast that it's hard to see:

 _A Silver Arrow broomstick._

It lands softly over the lawn next to our table, and my jaw completely drops when I notice the dark wood handle, angular and shiny, with some parts being made of a very sparkly silver metal. The bristles are so perfectly shaped, with a subtle silver spark to it, that my heart starts to beat a little faster.

"The handle is made of black oak and enchanted titanium," grandpa says. "With a special spell to make it lighter and more comfortable. It's their latest model."

"I have… no words, honestly," I say, grabbing the broomstick on my hands, barely feeling its weight.

"Then don't say anything," grandma says with a smile. "Why don't you give it a try?"

"Really?" I say, standing up and placing that light handle in between my knees.

I haven't felt this excited and happy in months. I take a small leap and the broom already takes me high into the sky, and it's so easy to manipulate that twirling around in the sky is as easy as walking on the ground. It's a thrilling sensation, filling my veins with the perspective of a good year, the freedom somehow relieving the sorrow inside of me.

From up here I can see grandpa and grandma cheering, and a very blissful Holly clapping her hands in complete excitement. I risk a few movements, loving the feeling of the wind against my face, shaking my hair from side to side. I close my eyes, allowing this feeling to take control of me, a few tears coming to my eyes and floating in the wind, being cast away from my face, my heart and my soul.

* * *

"Everything packed?" grandpa asks from my bedroom's door, a sweet smile upon his face.

"Yes," I tell him, inviting Twilight back into his cage.

He enters my room, walking around for a bit, looking at Rowan and Penny's drawing on the board, along with a copy of my year's schedule, so they'd know exactly what I'd be doing.

"Busy year, huh?" he says, noticing the few free hours I intend on having.

I smile at him, but then he grabs my face between his hands, his blue eyes staring deep into mine. There's a sad smile hidden underneath them, and it breaks my heart that he's hurting so much. I lost my mum, but he lost a daughter.

"We're gonna get through it, you know?" he says, his palms warm against my cheeks. "Never forget she loved you very, very much."

I feel a tear forming in the corner of my eye, so I swallow hard and nod, feeling my heart aching again.

"Study hard to become the great witch you're destine to be," he says. "Make her proud."

I can't keep lying to him anymore. Something inside me tells me that if I'm going to keep on doing reckless things, he should be aware of it. And if he tells me to stop looking for Jake, maybe it's the wisest decision after all.

"Grandpa," I start, not quite sure where to begin. "I have something to tell you."

And then I tell him.

Every single thing.

He sits next to me on my bed, listening attentively, not looking concerned or angry. Instead, his face is pure comprehension. When I finish talking, he places his hand over mine, smiling at me.

"Find him, Athena," he says. "I believe in you. You're the only one who'll be able to find Jacob."

I raise my brows at him. That wasn't exactly what I was expecting.

"Aren't you mad?" I ask him. "Don't you think I'm reckless or crazy or that I should leave this job to the professors?"

He giggles, gently running his hand through my hair.

"No, darling," he says. "I don't think you're mad. Maybe a little reckless, but I guess it's a family thing. I used to do a lot of imprudent things back when I was in Hogwarts," he winks at me. "And no, I don't think this is a job for your teachers. They may be very skilled, but they are not very helpful. And even though Dumbledore is a genius, he is flawed. Back in my time, neither Dumbledore neither our Headmaster nor any of our teachers were capable to prevent a student's murder. Those were dark times, darling, and most of the times we had to stay united to face the danger. That school is wonderful, that's true, but it's hardly perfect or completely safe.

Grandpa sighs, a mixture of concern and relief in his eyes.

"I won't pretend I won't be worried," he says. "But if Jacob is lost because of the Vaults, there's no one better to find him than his sister. Just promise me one thing, darling."

"Anything, grandpa."

"You'll keep me informed," he says. "You'll send me letters with everything you find out. I'll do my best to help you. Promise?"

"I promise," I say, and we wraps his arms around me in a soothing hug.

"Now come on," he says. "Let's go to King's Cross."

* * *

The Platform 9¾ is crowed with students and their parents. Some of them I recognize, like Andromeda and Tonks, who come to greet my grandparents. I also see Zelda and Nicole, happily heading to the train, and my best friend in the entire world, Rowan Khanna, rushing in my direction, locking her arms around me in a tight hug.

"Athena!" she says, her voice muffled against my hair. "I thought you had forgotten me!"

"Row," I say, trying hard to swallow my tears, feeling my heart aching after spending months without talking to her.

"What happened?" she asks. "I sent you a bunch of letters, but you never answered."

"Let's go," I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. "I'll tell you everything on the train."

"Is it my impression or your boobs have grown during the summer?" she asks. "And you look so _thin_!"

Rowan gets speechless as soon I as tell her what happened during the summer. She covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes widened and her brows twisted in completely shock. She listens to the whole story: my mum, my dad shipping me away, living with Nana and Papa, bumping into grandpa in the Leaky Cauldron… The only time she relaxes her face is when I mention the Silver Arrow, but she still maintains a very compassionate face.

"If… if I'd known…" she tries to say, but the words seem to be stuck in her throat.

"I know," I say as she grabs my hand and hold it tightly.

"I'm here for you," she says. "Whenever, wherever."

We spend good portion of the journey alone in our wagon, eating candy and talking about her summer back in Bach. Her parents still don't care that she doesn't want to marry Dev, so she decided to accept her future.

"I don't give a fuck anymore," she says. "And I also found out I like cursing. A lot. So fuck it."

"Good for you," I say, smiling at her. Being around her is so nice that it sort of gives my heart a break. "I told grandpa. About the Vaults."

"You did?" she raises her brows in astonishment. "And?"

"He asked me keep him informed," I tell her. "That I must be the one to find Jake."

"Wow," she says. "Not exactly what I was expecting."

"I know, right?" I say. "And there's something more. He told me not to rely on our teachers. That though they're skilled, they couldn't prevent a _murder_ in Hogwarts when he was a student."

"A murder?" Rowan's mouth opens. "When? Who?"

"I don't know," I tell her. "But I'll be bold and assume that there weren't many murders in Hogwarts."

"I'll do some research," she scratches her chin. "Speaking of research, how's your schedule?"

"Full," I tell her. "I'll be taking every single class... with the exception of Muggle Studies. And I'll have the Frog Choir. And I'll try to join our Quidditch team."

"When will you sleep?"

"That's not important."

Our wagon door opens, revealing a proud Bill Weasley, the Prefect badge sparkling on his chest.

"What are you girls up to?" he asks. "You're aware that now I'm a Prefect I won't allow your little adventures anymore."

Rowan and I exchange concerned looks.

"I'm joking," he says, sitting next to Rowan, who immediately blushes. "Of course I will. We are still going to look for the other Vaults, right?"

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Prefect," I say. "We are."

"Fantastic," he says. "Well, I can't stay longer. Must go back to the Prefect's wagon."

He reaches out and grabs a caramel from the box balanced over Rowan's legs.

"Thanks," he winks at her, making her cheeks blush even more.

She waits for him to disappear in the corridor before collapsing on the bench.

"Holy crap," she says, resting the back of her hand on her forehead, like a terrible actress. "He's so dreamy! He looks even more handsome now that he's older."

"Are you ever going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?" she sits, looking at me like I'm crazy.

"That you _like_ him," I put extra emphasis on the word _like_ , as it has ten _i_ 's instead of one.

" _What?_ " she shrieks. " _No!_ "

"Then how you're going to live your happy ever after until your marriage with Dev if you don't tell him?" I ask.

"What if he doesn't like me back?"

"Then make him like you," I say.

"You mean, by using a love potion?"

"No!" I say. "I mean by being charming and witty, asking him for help and stuff."

"Hmmm," she makes a pensive face. "Yeah. It might work."

I giggle, looking through the window, seeing Hogwarts in the distance, under a thick mass of dark clouds, lightning bolts tearing the night sky.

"Let's put on our robes," I tell her. "We're almost there."

"Back to another year of trouble next to my best friend," she smiles, stretching before grabbing her robes from her trunk.

 _Yeah._

 _Trouble._

 _Recklessness._

 _Mischievousness._

 _A pinch of danger._

 _With Merula Snyde as the main nemesis._


	32. Year 3: Chapter 4 - Green Eyes

**Introduction:** Hello, hello! How are you all in this chilly and cloudy Sunday morning? I wanna thank you guys so much for all the sweet reviews and the almost ten thousand views *o*. You guys are awesome. I wanna send a special shout out to **James, Rina, Son of Whitebeard** and **LoreleiGrace** for the kind reviews!My question for you today is: who's your favorite Weasley sibling? I absolutely LOVE the twins, but now with Charlie and Bill on the game, it's hard not to love them too. Anyway, I hope you like today's chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Four – Green Eyes**

There are lightning bolts, dark clouds and rain in the Great Hall's enchanted sky. If this is some kind of destiny irony or something, in an attempt to match my gloomy soul, I must agree it was very successful. Rowan held my hand all the way from the station to the carriages to the Ravenclaw's table. It's reassuring to have her with me, now that I need her more than ever.

It is strange not to see some known faces, from the seventh year students who graduated, and also seeing how much we've change over these few years. Ben is starting to lose his rounded cheeks and now I can see a very handsome jawline framing his face. Rowan's hair is longer, but she's also taller and started developing the same changes as me: wider hips, bigger tights, and her boobs also look bigger than mine. I look at Hufflepuff's table, to wave at Penny, but she's staring at her empty plate, looking rather sad and dismayed.

The doors open to reveal all the new students: a horde of forty new faces, all looking scared and astonished, trying to absorb the entire environment at once, like I quite remember doing back when I got here.

Professor McGonagall didn't lose the austere and intense expression, silently bringing the stool and the Sorting Hat, a roll of parchment under her arm. I look at all those frightened childish faces, wondering who'll become a part of Ravenclaw too.

The first boy, a black haired named Noah Wilson, is sorted into Slytherin. I take a good look at his innocent features, wondering when he'll become like most Slytherins, or if he already has a tendency for ambition and darkness inside him. I shake my head, telling myself that's I'm probably just being biased because of everything I have experienced with Merula so far. No. There are probably some good people in Slytherin, the same as there are some helpless people in Ravenclaw.

Like Gil, for example.

Penelope Towers is sorted into Hufflepuff, but I don't see Penny join her friends in the applauses. Abigail Price is now a proud Gryffindor, Quinn Wood is sorted into Ravenclaw – and I join the applauses – and by the time the fortieth student is sorted, my stomach is rumbling so much that I can barely think.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts!" Professor Dumbledore says, his voice magically enhanced, after everyone is properly placed. "I'm pleased to have all of you, new and returning students, here for another year of magical learning and self-discovery."

Rowan looks at me, probably thrilled with the perspective or another year of knowledge and dusty books.

"Of course, I would be remiss if I did not mention the Erumpent in the room," he says, calmly. "As many of you know, last year, Hogwarts was afflicted with cursed ice caused by one of the long-rumored Cursed Vaults."

Once again, Rowan and I exchange looks, probably wondering if everyone knows about our adventures with the Ice Knight.

"The curse was released by someone attempting to enter a vault, so I am ordering everyone in this room to stay away from the rest," his blue eyes sparkle in my direction. "It's said that tampering with each vault unleashes a unique curse, and I will not have my students and faculty endangered again. It is true that the students who opened the Cursed Vault broke the curse and saved the school. It is also true that they put all of us at risk by doing so. Students are _absolutely forbidden_ from seeking the remaining vaults. The penalty for anyone caught doing so will be _severe_. Especially so for repeat offenders," once again, his eyes focus on me.

 _So unfair._

 _What about Merula?_

 _What about her plans for world domination?_

"It is the staff's responsibility to take care of this situation," he continues. "and ensure that Hogwarts is safe for everyone. So, once more," his voice gets higher. " _Do not attempt to locate and enter the Cursed Vaults!_

I look away. Professor Dumbledore can repeat these same words over and over again, but after what happened to Jake and the school's incapacity to find him, I stand by what grandpa said: I must be the one to find my brother.

"My apologies," Professor Dumbledore's lips twist into a kind grin. "I hope temporarily damaging your eardrums has saved you from more permanent harm. Now, please enjoy our feast! I've had the opportunity to sample this year's pumpkin tart, and it's particularly tasty."

As soon as he speaks the last words, the table fills itself with the most delicious feast. I grab everything I can, from carrot puree to lasagna and I don't give a damn about looking exaggerated. I've spent the last months barely eating, feeding on self-pity, and Hogwarts's feast is _not_ something to be ignored.

Right when I'm eating my second slice of chocolate pie, I feel a paper ball hitting my head. I look around to see who threw it, and I see a much chuffed Chester smiling at me, his Head Boy badge shining under the candle lights.

"I don't think that's an appropriate behavior for a Head Boy," I tell him, stuffing my mouth with more pie.

"Meet me tomorrow morning in the Common Room, before breakfast," he winks. "There's something we need to discuss."

"Okay," I say, taking a swig of lemonade to wash the pie down.

Rowan pokes me with her elbow.

"What do you think he wants," she asks.

"Probably tell me to stay out of trouble," I sigh. "Little does he know that this is nearly impossible for me, no matter how much I try."

"That's equally appropriate for me too," she says.

"No," I say. "It is not. You're the one who chose this path. If you had never offered to help me in the Diagon Alley two years ago, you wouldn't be in this situation. But now you've made your bed. Our destinies are tied. We're in this together now."

"Indeed, we are," she smiles, messing up my hair. "But now you own me one. No, not one. You own me big time. I deserve a hippogriff for my birthday."

"I'll tell Twilight to send you an egg," I tell her, still feeling a bit gloomy, but very happy to be back.

I'm not able to speak with Penny, Bill or Ben after dinner, because everyone gets up at the same time and starts heading to their Common Rooms. But that's okay, I guess. We have the whole year ahead of us.

"Hey, Athena," Addison says when we're getting to the Ravenclaw Tower. "I'm so sorry about your mom."

I frown at her, wondering how she knows about it. But then again, I spent almost the whole summer without contact with the Wizarding world.

"Rowan," I say when we get to the Riddle Eagle. "How does she know about my mom?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "Maybe it was on the Daily Prophet."

" _Great_ ," I roll my eyes.

The bronze eagle looks at us with clever eyes, a deep voice coming from it:

"Feed me and I live. Give me water and I die. What am I?" it asks.

"Fire," I say, solemnly.

"Correct," it says, the heavy door opening to reveal our beautiful and cozy Common Room.

We go down the stairs to our dorm, where I put my flannel pajamas and sit on my bed, desperately missing Lockhart Gardens, but also thanking God that I'm not in Plymouth anymore. I feel my eyes watering again, but it's probably because I'm overwhelmed to be back. Also, the mention of my mum brought back painful and recent memories. Maybe it will be good for me to be back in here, busy as hell, not having time to think about it.

"Athena," Tulip says, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Sorry about your mother."

I look at her, her dark brown eyes and red hair, wondering how such sweet girl could be involved with someone like Merula.

"Thanks," I say. "I really appreciate it, Tulip. But if I may ask, how did you know about it?"

She frowns.

"It was on the July edition of the Daily Prophet," she says. "Here, I have a copy with me."

"Why do you have an old newspaper copy with you?" Rowan asks.

"Newspaper is great for wrapping prank toys," she giggles, opening her trunk and taking a rolled up Daily Prophet from under her school books.

I open it with apprehension, but mum is not on the front page. Why would she, after all? I flip the pages one by one, my eyes hovering through love columns, comics and a whole lot of crap, until I see it.

 _Mum_.

There's no picture, only a small paragraph in the obituaries section.

 **BIG LOSS FOR THE MINISTRY**

 _The Ministry of Magic lost an important part of its staff: the loving vice president of the Defense Department, Annette Lockhart; daughter of Sebastian and Agatha Lockhart and wife of the director of the Animagus Registry Department, Christopher Hodges. The 36 six year old witch committed suicide on this July 10, just a few days before her 37_ _th_ _birthday, due to deep depression after the disappearance of her son, Jacob. She will be forever missed._

It takes all of my mental faculties not to rip that page in a thousand pieces, but it's not mine to do so. Instead, I hand it to Tulip, crawl under my blankets and close my eyes, trying to vanish my mum's pale and lifeless face from my mind.

No surprise that my nightmares began to terrorize me the moment I fell asleep. It wasn't one of my premonitory dreams; it was just a memory. I didn't want to visit that moment ever again, and it was one of the main reasons why I've been dreading to sleep back when I was in Plymouth. All I had to do was to close my eyes and see myself standing right in front of my mother, her lifeless eyes looking at nowhere, a single tear lost in her cheek, a bottle of poison in one of her hands and a picture of Jake in the other. Not a happy place to be.

I wake up with my heart beating painfully and my eyes full of tears. I allow them to run down my cheeks, swallowing all the sorrow, wondering when it will stop hurting. I spend the rest of the night staring at my canopy curtains, considering closing them and lying in here forever.

But again, self-pity leads nowhere.

* * *

Chester is already waiting for me when I get to our Common Room. He looks a lot stronger and taller than the last time I saw him. And very handsome too, if I may say. "Had a good night sleep?" he asks.

"Not quite," I confess. "But I'm good. Did you want to talk to me?"

"Yes," he says. "As you probably know, this is my last year in Hogwarts. So I guess you can imagine the reason why I wanted to talk to you."

"Probably to tell me to stay away from trouble," I say.

He giggles.

"Not exactly," he continues. "I won't be here to monitor your fourth year, so I want to teach you a few things before the school year ends."

"Like what?" I frown.

"Spells," he says. "Defensive magic. Everything to help you become the witch you're destined to be."

" _Okay_ ," I say. "I appreciate it, Chester, but why me?"

"Because even though you're a bit reckless sometimes, you're the most determined and intelligent witch I know. That's why it will be you the one who'll be contemplated with the greatness of my knowledge," he smiles, amused.

I laugh.

"How modest, Chester," I say. "And thank you. It shall a pleasure to be your pupil."

"That's the spirit," he says. "And by the way," he places his hand on my shoulder, just like Tulip did yesterday. "So sorry about your mum."

I press my lips together and nod, trying to suppress each and every feeling that's lurking in the corners of my mind. I'll probably hear these same words over and over again, and I guess in some point I'll get used to it. But it's been almost two months and the pain is still fresh.

The Great Hall is a cheerful place in that calm after the storm kind of day, with beautiful fluffy clouds in the enchanted ceiling, and the chattering of the excited new students. It feels good to be in such a noisy environment, so I don't get to be alone with my thoughts. I stop by the bulletin board, the Frog Choir auditions booked to this Friday the 5h and the Quidditch tryouts to next Saturday, September 13th. Is it humanly possible to burst for doing too much stuff?

"What classes do you have today?" Rowan asks when I sit next to her for breakfast.

"Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, Arithmancy and Potions," I tell her. "And you?"

"Same, except for Divination," she says. "Why are you taking this class?"

"To keep myself busy," I tell her, taking a big bite from my toast.

"Well, good luck with that," she smiles.

Rowan heads to the library after eating, and I walk to the Choir Room, wondering who'll join us this year. The corridor is empty and all I hear are my own footsteps on the stone floor. I wrap my robes around me, crossing my arms in front of my chest, but then a pair of violet eyes meets mine, as soon as I turn the corridor.

"So," Merula says with a devilish grin. "How did it feel to be publicly humiliated by Dumbledore at the feast?"

She's not alone this time. Next to her are Barnaby Lee, the clumsy Slytherin boy, and a girl whose name I don't know and won't bother to, but who has very strong and angry features, with the exception of a small green hair clip holding her fringe.

"Can we _not_ start our third year in another argument?" I say, placing my hands in my waist, wondering if I'll have to hex her in order to go to the choir practice.

"Of course," she says. "And don't worry about Dumbledore and the Cursed Vaults. I'll open them all before you even have a chance to find them," Barnaby and the angry girl smirk at her. "With the help of my associates, Barnaby and Ismelda here, all of the fortune and glory in the vaults will be mine."

"What do you think it's inside the next vault?" Barnaby asks, a confused expression on his face.

"I hope it's something that can bring back the Dark Lord," Ismelda says, and I sigh.

 _Great._

 _Another creep._

"Maybe it's something that can bring back Lockhart's brother," Merula teases. "On second thought, no one cares about that loser."

"I wouldn't provoke her I if were you," Barnaby says, but he's not talking to me. "You cried the last time she defeated you."

I bite my bottom lip to contain a smile.

"Shut up, Barnaby!" Merula hisses. "Let's go. She isn't worth our time. Bye, loser."

They walk past me and Merula makes an extra effort to bump heavily against my arm. I roll my eyes.

"Bye, crybaby!" I say, but then something pulls me and presses me against the wall.

"If you mess with Merula, I'll vanish all the bones in your body," Barnaby has both hands rested on the wall, blocking my way with his arms.

Strong arms, if I may say so.

I look into his eyes – extremely green –, trying not to demonstrate fear. He stares back at me, a smirk on his lips, and I notice his thick brows, straight nose and square jawline. His brown hair falls messily over his forehead and I swallow hard when his scent of shampoo and citrusy perfume invades my nostrils.

 _Fuck_.

"Why are you friends with her?" I ask, our noses inches apart.

"If what's inside the vaults will make me stronger, then I want it," he sibilates, and the freshness of his breath makes my heart beat faster.

 _What the hell is going on with me?_

"Merula is the most cunning witch in Hogwarts," he continues and I'm trying hard to look into his eyes and not to his lips. "The only way I'll ever get into the vaults is to do exactly what she says."

"Is that what she told you?" I smirk, raising my brows at him.

"Yeah," he says with a frown, that same confusion coming back to his face.

"Did you even think that she might be lying to manipulate you?"

His frown intensifies and he gets even closer, looking at me with severity.

"Don't try to make me think, Lockhart," he growls

He relaxes his arms, straightening his back.

 _Damn. He's much taller than me._

With one last smirk, he rushes to find Merula and Ismelda, leaving me alone in the corridor, my heart beating so fast that I have to take some deep breaths to make it beat normally again.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_


	33. Year 3: Chapter 5 - Vampires and Fortune

**Introduction:** You guys are seriously the best readers EVER! I've no words to thank you for the **132** delightful reviews, over **10.000** views, and for the **34** followers and the **22** of you who made this story a part of your favorites. I wanna send a special shout out to **Rina** and **Guest** (whose name is still unknown to me) for the sweet reviews. When I first started writing this story I didn't imagine you guys would like it so much and it makes me super freaking happy! And so I can get to know you guys a little bit more – and because I'm a music crazy – I wanna know what's your favorite song from a band or singer that's from your country. I have _a bunch_ of Brazilian songs that I love and one of my all-time favorites is _A Canção do Senhor da Guerra, by Legião Urbana_ (that could be translated to The Warlord Song). Again, thank you so, so much for everything. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Five – Vampires and Fortune Telling**

I tell Rowan about Merula's plan to find the vaults before us and how she managed to find two henchmen to help her. Or course, I do not mention Barnaby's amazing scent or the fact that he made my legs feel like butter under the sun.

"That girl, Ismelda," she said. "She's very scary. But Barnaby is thicker than a troll. I wouldn't worry about him."

"Even a troll would know to never trust Merula," I said, making a clean copy of my Charms notes. Madam Pince is too busy organizing some books in a faraway shelf, so she doesn't hear us talking.

After lunch, we go straight to the dungeons, but not for our Potions class. Instead, according to our schedule, we're supposed to have our Defense Against the Dark Arts in there. Why? I don't know yet.

"Maybe Snape finally got the post," Rowan says, but deep inside I wish he didn't. If the post is actually cursed, I wouldn't want to lose our Potions teacher. Why? I also don't know.

The classroom is gloomier and more sinister than Professor Snape's. The only lights come from red candles and over the teacher's table there's a big cage full of shrieking doxies. I sit next to Rowan, right behind Penny and Tonks. Tonks' hair is longer and looking bright violet under the candle lights, instead of the usual bubblegum color. When everybody is finally set, the class door closes, but the mysterious teacher is nowhere to be seen.

The sound of wing-beat and a screeching sound make us look around to see what's going on.

"There," Tonks says, pointing to a black bat hanging upside down in the chandelier.

I frown, wondering what the hell is going on, and then start to open my book, the first chapter addressing the Disarming Charm. This shall be easy peasy lemon squeezy. I raise my eyes when everybody makes a gasping sound, and I see the same bat transforming in the air, becoming a full-grown man, gently landing on the ground in front of us.

 _And. He. Is. Freaking. Handsome._

"Oh my God," Rowan whispers, pulling my sleeve. "Is Lorcan d'Eath."

" _Who?_ " I ask.

She looks at me as if I said a blasphemy.

" _Lorcan d'Eath!_ ", she repeats. "The singer and model dhampir!"

"Rowan, you understand I'm no idea what you're talking about."

"He's a _dhampir_ ," she says. "Part-vampire!"

I take a good look at our new teacher, who looks exactly like I had pictured Dorian Gray when I read the book. He has a pale, almost translucent skin, luscious black hair, a gorgeous jawline and a chin dimple. What call the most attention are his eyes: they're pale blue, almost white, emanating an iridescent energy. His clothes are similar to Professor Snape's: jet black, with a long flowing cape, with the exception that his cape has a high collar, something you would imagine Count Dracula wearing.

He observes us quietly, his eyes sparkling and then he flashes the whitest of smiles, a pair of pointy fangs glistening in the dim light.

"Good afternoon," he says, entwining his pale fingers while talking to us. "I am Lorcan d'Eath and I'll be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Because who better to teach you how to fight and defend yourselves from the dark than someone who lives perpetually in the darkness?"

I look at Rowan, who's looking at him like he's a god. Her eyes are sparkling and her lips are a little big opened. Yeah, he's handsome, alright. But I do not quite understand all the commotion.

"I think it would be pertinent and also quite interesting if we actually started our classes with a subject we wouldn't be studying until the very end of your third year," he says. " _Vampires_."

I flip my book to the penultimate chapter, where there's a huge illustration of a fanged creature, looking awfully scary and not at all like our dazzling teacher.

"I know what you're thinking," he continues. " _Professor, you don't look at all like this creature in the book_."

Yeah. In fact that's _exactly_ what I was thinking.

"I am not a full vampire," he explains. "Which means I have vampire ancestry, but I am not an actual vampire. Yes, I do avoid sunlight and drink human blood occasionally," he flashes his white fangs at us. "But do not fear. That's what these doxies are for."

Rowan raises her hand, excitedly.

"Yes. Miss?" Professor Lorcan says.

"Khanna, sir," she says with a smile. "I have read about vampires before, but there is no mention of them shape-shifting into bats. I assumed that it was only fictitious."

He grins again. There's something supernaturally frightening but also alluring about his smile.

"Indeed, Miss Khanna," he says. "Vampires aren't able to shape-shift into bats and I am no exception. What you just witnessed here was my Animagus form."

Another set of surprise sounds coming from pretty much everyone.

"When you are older, wiser and far more powerful, you can, too, train to become Animagi," he says. "Though you cannot choose the animal you'll become, I guess I had a quite fortuitous and appropriate luck. I can sleep hanging upside down, I can lurk in the shadows without being seen and it makes quite easier to hunt my _prey_."

Grandpa will love to hear about this, for sure.

Safe school, my ass.

I wonder who'll be the first to become a meal to Professor Transylvania.

It feels actually weird when we leave the dungeons and it's still sunny out there. For some reason I thought we had been teleported to the land of eternal darkness.

"Oh my God," Rowan says, escorting me to the North Tower, to my first Divination class. "Did you look at him? _He's perfect!_ "

"I thought you heart belonged to _Bill_ ," I say.

"It does," she says. "But it doesn't mean I can't have a crush on our handsome vampire teacher!"

We separate when we finally reach the stairs which lead to the circular trapdoor where is the Divination classroom. Rowan still looks completely mesmerized and it makes me wonder what led Professor Dumbledore to hire a famous vampire to teach us.

Probably the same that led him to hire my Aunt.

 _Madness, for sure._

"Meet you at the Arithmancy class," I say, waving at her as I climb the stairs, entering a room that looks very much a fortune teller room.

There are candles everywhere; some of a dark red and some purple. There's a crackling fire on the fireplace, though the air doesn't smell like burnt wood. It actually smells like a very strong incense. There are a lot of strange objects on the shelves: teapots, flowered tea cups, weird shaped candles and crystal balls. There are circular tables with chintz armchairs – which reminded me of my room back in Plymouth – and a lot of fat fluffy puffs.

My heart fills with joy when Ben sits next to me, in one of the farthest tables. Now that I can get a closer look, he actually has grown a lot during the summer. He also looks a little bit more confident too.

When our Divination teacher arrives, I don't know if I'm more surprised than at Professor Lorcan's class. She is a woman in her early twenties, with a voluminous bushy hair, huge eyes magnified by her large glasses, wearing very colorful clothes, with shawls and sequins and beads, and she's wearing a lot of necklaces, bracelets and rings. It's hard to take my eyes out of her.

"Welcome, students," she says in a theatrical way. "Welcome to your first Divination class! I am Professor Sybil Trelawney. You may not have seen me before, for I find that descending too often into the crowded castle usually clouds my Inner Eye."

Her voice is soft and ethereal, just like you'd expect a fortune teller's voice to be. Every time she moves her wrists, she makes a shaky sound from the bracelets hitting one another.

"In here you will learn how to unleash your mind to the beyond!" she says, making much exaggerated gestures. "In here you will open your eyes to the future!"

Ben and I exchange concerned looks. I'm starting to reconsider my idea of taking this class.

"Today you will learn about Tessomancy, which is the art of reading tea leaves," she explains. "So please, everyone grab a cup and come here to fill it with tea. Then drink it, turn it three times and leave it upside down to dry. Then you'll exchange cups with your partner and read each other's future."

It's a good thing that I actually enjoy tea, because Professor Trelawney's tea is strong as hell, with an intense flowery flavor. Ben and I drink it in silence, wondering if it will actually work out, and then we leave our cups to dry upside down.

We open our books as Professor Trelawney makes a bunch of illustrations in the blackboard, showing us how to discern the images in the tea leaves.

"Here," I say, handing Ben my cup. "What does the future hold for me?"

"Hmmm," he says, frowning at my messy tea leaves. "I see a snake, which means," he runs his finger by the book page. "you're going to meet someone who's not to be trusted."

"Very interesting," I say.

"And I think this is an apple," he says. "Which means you'll gather a lot of knowledge."

"Appropriate, I guess," I say, grabbing his cup. "I see a skull, which means danger in your path."

"How convenient," he sighs.

"But I also see a goblet," I continue. "Which means you'll celebrate about something. Nine months from now, if my observations are correct."

"Yeah," he says. "I'll celebrate having survived another school year."

I slap his arm in a friendly way and he smiles at me. For some reason, his smirk makes me think of Barnaby and his attempt to threaten me. Little does he know that threatened was the last thing I felt…

Ben isn't taking Arithmancy, but he walks me to class, where I meet with Rowan.

"So," she says. "How was it?"

"Apparently I'll meet someone untrustworthy and will learn a lot this year," I tell her. "Now let's see what Arithmancy tells me about my future."

"At least you'll know _exactly_ what to expect," she giggles.

Professor Vector is gorgeous: she has long ebony hair and well-shaped eyebrows, framing a pair of beautiful green eyes. She's wearing dark red robes and an equally dark red pointy hat. Her expression, though, is severe as Professor McGonagall's.

Arithmancy is way harder than I anticipated: there's a lot of math involved – the opposite of just searching for hidden shapes in tea leaves – and by the end of the class my notes look like some intricate algebra equations.

"According to my calculations," I tell Rowan. "My destiny number is 11. So I am 'The Illuminator'".

"Cast _Lumos_ right now and you'll really be the illuminator," she laughs.

" _As I was saying,_ " I continue, a smile on my lips. "I'm a born leader, a spiritual teacher and can inspire others through words and actions."

"That's very true, actually," she says. "You inspired Ben to overcome his fear of flying."

"And what's your number?" I ask her.

"Mine is 3," she says. "I'm 'The Communicator'".

"Very appropriate," I tease. "You never stop talking."

"It says I'm joyful, creative and fun," she says. "And that I can create the life of my dreams if I desire. Okay. I desire Bill and Professor Lorcan satisfying all my needs."

"You're such a weirdo," I say, wrapping my arm around her neck and walking to our first Potions class of the year.

* * *

Professor Snape is gloomy and moody was usual, probably because he didn't get his desired post _again_. I still don't know what led Aunt Anise to leave Hogwarts – aside from the post being cursed -, but I guess I'll probably find out during the holidays.

"Alright, you insufferable lot," he says in his usual dark but velvety voice. "Take your seats, heat up your cauldrons and try not to ruin another lesson."

Merula is sitting with Barnaby and Ismelda, and they all smirk at me when I pass. Though Merula's smirk makes me feel nothing at all and Ismelda's freaks me out a bit, Barnaby's smile actually gives me a bunch of butterflies.

 _Damn._

"Today you'll learn how to properly brew an Antidote for Uncommon Poisons," Professor Snape says. "Miss Lockhart!"

"Yes, sir?" my heart races when he says my name.

"Explain how to obtain Chizpurfle Carapace," he says.

"Use _Lumos Duo_ to lure the Chizpurfle towards a Venomous Tentacula plant," I say. "Once the plant has consumed the Chizpurfle, it will spit out the carapace. Then it can be collected."

"Correct," he says. "Now observe attentively while I explain all the steps."

I look at Professor Snape while he writes all the steps on the blackboard, with emphasis in the proper amounts, and I can't help but to notice he doesn't look at all like Professor Lorcan. Our part-vampire teacher has that obvious kind of beauty, while Professor Snape has that mysterious aura surrounding him; the kind of mystery that makes people guessing.

I shake my head to erase my thoughts. I honestly don't know if I'm experiencing some king of post-traumatic syndrome or something, but this day had me feeling really weird.

When Professor Snape finishes his explanation, we start brewing our potions. I'm feeling very confident while adding seven fire seeds, one at a time, just like he taught me last year, my potions turning into a translucent green.

"Wipe that smug, confident expression off your face, Miss Lockhart," Professor Snape says as he walks by my cauldron.

Jeez. Not getting the Defense Against the Dark Arts position really got in his nerves. _Again_.

Half an hour later, I finish my potion and add some into a flask, carefully leaving it over his table. I grab my things to go have dinner with Rowan, but Professor Snape's voice stops me.

"You stay, Miss Lockhart," his tone is sharp. "I'd like to have a word."

Rowan looks at me with widened eyes and I just shrug.

"Meet you in the Great Hall," she says, rushing away from the dungeons as fast as possible.

I walk to Professor Snape's table, feeling like there's cold water being poured inside my soul. His eyes spark under the candle lights, black as my raven quill, and he stares at me with piercing intensity. Somehow, his eyes make me feel uncomfortably exposed.

"How was your first day back at Hogwarts?" he asks, entwining his fingers over the table.

"Hmmm," I frown. What the hell is he talking about? "Very enlightening, sir."

"And how's your schedule?" he asks. "Any free periods?"

"Just a few," I say, wondering what the meaning of that conversation is. "Only on Tuesdays and Thursdays evenings."

"Would you care for some private Potions lessons?" he raises his brows at me.

 _Wait._

 _What?_

"I'm sorry?" I ask. Probably all that incense in Divination affected my head.

He stands up, his black robes flowing around his ankles, and he heads to a shelf, holding his hands in his back.

"You present great aptitude with potions, Miss Lockhart," he says. "And you also seem to quite enjoy yourself during these classes."

"I… do…," I'm not quite sure what to say.

"I am willing to spare some time to teach you," he says. "Advanced potions, poisons, antidotes. And in exchange, you'll help me brew a lot of difficult potions for my personal stock and for the Potions' OWLs and NEWTs."

"But, sir," I don't know what to think, too. "Penny is way better than me."

"Miss Haywood it very skilled in Potions, indeed," he says, turning to look at me. "But you have something that she has _not_."

"And what is it?"

"Curiosity," he says. "Fascination. I see in you exactly what I had in myself when I was a student," his black eyes flashes at me. "Of course, if you are not interested I can always ask Miss Haywood to-"

"No," I say. "I mean, yes. I'm very interested. It will be an honor, sir."

I capture a glimpse of a smile in the corner of his lips.

"Tuesdays and Thursdays evenings you said," he recalls and I nod. "Meet me here at _precisely_ six o'clock. I hope you find our lessons, as you said, _enlightening_."

"Thank you, Professor," I smile. "Thank you so much."

"Enough with the gratitude, Miss Lockhart," he says, his voice returning to its regular gloominess. "Now go join Miss Khanna in the Great Hall."

I take one last look at him as I'm leaving the classroom. He seems very pleased with himself, sitting at his table, correcting our potions. No. He doesn't look at all like Professor Lorcan.

He's far more interesting.


	34. Year 3: Chapter 6 - The Blonde and the W

**Introduction:** Hello, hello! How are you all today? First of all – as usual – thank you guys so much for all the sweet reviews. I also wanna send a big shout out to **James, Andouille, Rina, Guest** and **Son of Whitebeard**. I'm super happy you guys are enjoying the story. My question for your guys today is: _What's your favorite book from an author that is from your country?_ Mine is _Ahmnat_ , by Julien de Lucca. I hope you enjoy today's chapter! Ad you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Six – The Blonde and the Werewolf**

"Blessed be the sun," Rowan says while we're heading to the Greenhouses to our first Herbology lesson of the year. Her long black hair is tied in a high ponytail and she even rolled up her sleeves, allowing the sun to kiss her bronzy skin.

There isn't a single cloud in the sky and the September air is still fresh, inspiring and relaxing. I had to tie my hair too, but in a very long braid. I wonder if these last weeks of summer will be able to bring some color to my skin, after spending months locked in my chintz room in Plymouth.

Professor Sprout has already prepared the blackboard with important information on Mandrakes, and I'm very excited to work with them. I can already see their leaves sticking out from the vase. Tonks is already there with Penny, poking the leaves with the tip of her wand.

"Miss Tonks, stop annoying these poor babies!" Professor Sprout scolds.

"Sorry, Professor," Tonks says with a mischievous smirk.

Penny smiles at us, but there's something about her baby blue eyes that makes me feel unease. It's almost like they're pools of sadness, hidden behind her long lashes and her sweet grin.

"Alright, everyone," Professor Sprout says when the rest of the students arrive. "Our first subject is these little sweet babies, the Mandrakes. Please, be very gentle when handling them."

She starts explaining everything about them, with emphasis on their deadly scream. For now, they're still too young to be able to kill us, which I don't know for sure if it's reassuring or scary as hell.

"Today we'll transplant them into bigger vases so they'll have more space to grow, and we'll also add a more nutritious soil, so they'll get big and strong," she says. "Grab the vases and the soil and I'll explain you the proper way to do so."

There's a big and long table behind us, with a lot of vases and packages of soil. Penny is the first to go and grab one, but before she's able to reach them, a dusty cloud emanates from one of the vases, shifting into a huge creepy wolf.

But not just any wolf.

 _A werewolf._

Penny freezes on the ground, staring at that big creature with widened eyes, looking completely static. A lot of our classmates start screaming in panic, and Rowan immediately grabs my hand, holding it so tightly that I begin to lose circulation.

"Do not panic!" Professor Sprout rushes to Penny. "This is not a werewolf."

She raises her wand at the beast, a calm look on her face, completely opposite to what's going on with Penny.

" _Riddikulus!_ " she enunciates, and the werewolf twists and turns and becomes just a small wolf plushie.

There's immediate silence in the Greenhouse. Everybody is looking to the little plushie, with buttons for eyes, wondering what the hell is going on.

"It's just a boggart," Professor Sprout says. "But it's not supposed to be in here."

"Penny," Tonks says, landing her hand on Penny's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Penny is still frozen, her eyes lost in the place where werewolf was, her face pale as paper. I look at her with concern and notice she swallows hard and tightens her jaw.

"Penny?" Tonks repeats, and Penny turns her head to face her.

"I'm fine," she says.

"Please, continue with the transplant," Professor Sprout says as the wolf plushie disintegrates in that same dusty cloud. "If there's another boggart in here, please don't panic."

I spend the rest of the lesson managing my moaning baby Mandrake with care, but constantly glancing at Penny, her face twisted in a very distressed expression. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but I could swear I saw a tear falling down her cheek.

* * *

History of Magic is dull as usual, though the subject is actually quite interesting: The Witch Hunts. I'm sitting between Ben, who looks like it's about to fall asleep, and Rowan, who's actually reading about Boggarts in her Dark Arts textbook.

Amidst Professor Binns' lecture and my attentive annotations, Penny's face keeps coming to my mind, a terrible feeling in my soul after seeing her usually glowing face so full of sorrow.

We have a full lecture about Animagi during Transfiguration, though we won't actually learn how to become one. Professor McGonagall even turns into a big green eyed cat, with round marks where her glasses should be, rising excited gasps from the students.

Penny doesn't show up for lunch, but neither does Professor Trelawney or Professor Lorcan. I wonder if he's in his room, sucking all the blood from those poor doxies.

"Rowan," I start, filling my plate with chicken and roast potatoes. "Why there was a boggart in the Greenhouse?"

"I'm not sure," she says. "They usually prefer dark and shadowy places, but a Greenhouse doesn't seem like the proper place for one."

"I'm worried about Penny," I say.

"Me too," she says. "Boggarts assume the shape of whatever most frightens someone. Why is her boggart a werewolf?"

"Well, they're pretty scary by themselves," I say. "But I'm going to talk to her later."

It is weird to see Professor Kettleburn again after his tantrum two years ago. He now has a big scar across his face and is limping, like there's something wrong with his right leg. Our first lesson is basically theoretical, with a long and boring lecture about Porlocks. The only thing interesting about this day, so far, was the werewolf in the Greenhouse.

I note everything down, impressed that I'm still feeling quite energetic. I managed to immediately fall asleep after my exhausting first day back, diving into a glorious dreamless night, recovering all my energies and waking up feeling fantastic.

Our Ancient Runes' teacher has the most interesting name of them all: Bathsheda Babbling. But even though her name is quite funny, she bears a big scowl upon her face, like she's permanently judging you. Apart from all that, her lesson was quite stimulating. By the end of her lesson, I had a few pages full of intricate drawing of runes and their meanings, along with a bunch of runes we are supposed to research for homework. My favorites so far were the Moon Glyphs for time and light.

Rowan and I head to the library to begin our research, carefully translating all the runes Professor Babbling asked for.

" _Anxious for your private lessons with Mr. Darkness tonight?_ " Rowans asks, amused.

" _Jealous because he didn't offer_ you _private lessons?_ " I whisper back.

"Shhh!" Madam Pince interrupts us, and we continue our homework in silence.

Now that Rowan mentioned my private lessons with Professor Snape, I can't seem to concentrate as I should. I keep reaching to my watch to check what time is it, and when it's finally a quarter to six, I grab all my stuff and go to the dungeons, feeling thrilled but apprehensive at the same time.

He's quietly sitting by his table, looking extremely concentrated in a book, holding his chin with his index and thumb like he's conjecturing something. His brows are a little bit frowned and he doesn't notice my presence, not even when I lean against a table right across from his, waiting for him to finish. He grabs his quill and dips it into the ink-pot, scratching a whole paragraph from the page he's reading, and adding a bunch of notes by the side of the page.

"We'll start our lessons in a moment, Miss Lockhart," he says, his voice deep and smooth, but he doesn't lift his eyes to look at me.

"I thought you hadn't seen me," I say, leaving my bag over the table.

"I also see that you're early again," he continues, making more notes.

"Is this a bad thing?" I ask him, crossing my arms.

"Not at all," he says. "Here's a list of all the ingredients we'll be using today. If you please, go ahead and gather them all."

"Yes, sir," I say, grabbing a long list of supplies and rushing to the shelves to get them.

 _Wiggentree twigs, castor oil, Extract of Gurdyroot…_

I'm positively no idea what we are going to brew today.

I leave all the ingredients organized next to the cauldron Professor Snape left over one of the tables.

"Very well," he says, getting up from his desk and walking to me, his hands, as usual, held behind his back. "Do you know what these ingredients can be used for?"

"A lot of different potions, medicine, poisons," I say. "But I'm not quite sure what they do when combined."

"They create a very powerful antidote for love potions," he says. "Which it what we'll be making today."

"May I ask why?"

"Love potions are a very common prank during Halloween," he says with a sigh. "And it will be good to have some antidotes in stock for Valentine's Day as well."

"Do they really work?"

"The antidotes? Of course."

"No. I mean… the love potions."

"Ah," he frowns a bit. "Well, they cannot replicate real love. They just cause a very strong obsession. And that can be very dangerous."

"Why so?"

"Let's put it this way," he explains. "Imagine you're so obsessed with someone that you could do anything that person would tell you to do. Like steal, jump off a cliff or even kill someone."

"And they're used as _pranks_?" I shriek. " _Why?_ "

"Interesting question coming from a very reckless girl," he raises his brows.

"I'm _not_ reckless," these words come out from my lips automatically.

 _Damn._

"I mean," my heart starts racing a bit. "You said it yourself, Professor. Instructions aren't meant to be followed to the letter."

And then the strangest of things happen.

He smirks.

"How weren't you sorted into Slytherin, I'll never understand," he says.

I have to make an extra effort to stand the intensity of his stare, feeling, once again, as if he's looking right inside me.

"Shall we start?" I say, braking eye contact, feeling my heart beating in a very strange way.

We spend the next hour brewing a bunch of flasks with the love potion antidote. Professor Snape even allows me to add the extract of Gurdyroot every time it's necessary, and by the time we finish, I sit across from him, by his desk, labeling the dozens of flasks for his personal stock.

He's holding a shiny black quill, just like the one I have, his handwriting small and cramped. I find myself staring at him writing for some time, until he raises his eyes at me and frowns.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I'm pulled off of my thoughts, and when my eyes meet his raven ones, I feel, again, strangely exposed.

 _Is he reading my mind?_

"Yes," I answer, continuing to label the last flasks.

"Once you're done, you can go," he says.

I finish the last one, placing it inside of a box, grab my bag and look at him.

"Thank you once more, Professor," I say.

He nods at me and I leave the dungeons to meet Rowan for dinner. Midways, I bump into Penny, whose eyes are still looking very sorrowful. Her hair isn't flawlessly braided as usual; in fact, it kinda looks a little messy and sloppy.

"Hey," I say, and she smiles at me, but it's a somehow defeated smile, like she's forcing herself to it.

"Hi, Athena," she says.

"How are you, Penny?"

"Fine," and that sounds like an obvious lie.

"You're so not fine," I say, rubbing my hand in her arm. "You can talk to me, you know."

"I'm fine, Athena," she repeats. "I mean it."

"Okay," I say. "But you can count on me for anything. So if you ever need me, I'm here for you."

"Thanks," she smiles and heads to the Great Hall.

I walk right after her, my hands in my robes' pockets, wondering could have possibly happened to make Penny so sad.


	35. Year 3: Chapter 7 - The Clue and the Sni

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you all doing today? Thank you so much to all the new followers and I want to send a special kiss to **KaramelKat,** **Rina** , **Guest** (I wish I could reply to your reviews *crying*, but thank you for the very sweet messages), **James, Andouille** and **Son of Whitebeard.** If you – whoever you are – are reading this, leave a comment with your opinion so I know that you're thinking of the story. Also, a little desclaimer: I've put Andre Egwu on the fourth year, mainly because I haven't mentioned him before and he wasn't even in the leaderboard list when I made my Excel spread sheet… Anyway, I hope it doesn't alter the story _much_. Anyway, hope you guys like today's chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Seven – The Clue and the Snitch**

In a blink of an eye, my first week at Hogwarts ends, bringing with it our first trip to Hogsmeade. It was weird seeing Professor Snape every single day, so it will be refreshing to take Potions out of my mind for a while.

Rowan, Ben, Bill and I go together in the same carriage; Bill already knows what to expect, but the rest of us is pretty damn excited to visit Zonko's, Honeyduke's and everything else. I even want to take a look at the Shrieking Shack; Ben shivers every time I mention it, but maybe it will be another fear he'll overcome.

"I wanna go to the Three Broomsticks first," Rowan announces. "I've read about it in the Sites of Historical Sorcery, Notable Magical Names of Our Time, Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century and-"

"Alright, we'll go there first," Bill says with a smirk. "I'm honestly _dying_ for some Butterbeer."

The pub smells woody, but also very sweet. We sit in a table next to a window and order a round of delicious Butterbeer.

"Hi Athena!" Rubeus enters the pub, coming to us and flashing a big smile. "Good ter see yeh here!"

"Hi Rubeus!" I say.

"Hagrid!" the blonde woman who got our order comes and taps him on his arm. "How are you doing?"

"Very well, Rosmerta, dear," he smiles. "I want ter introduce yeh to Athena Lockhart, a very special friend o' mine."

"Nice to meet you, Madam," I say. "These are Ben, Rowan and Bill."

"Lockhart, huh?" she says. "Relative to Jacob Lockhart?"

"Yes, Madam. He is my brother," my heart races with the single though of that woman knowing Jake.

"Very sweet boy, Jacob," she says, nostalgic. "Very quiet too. He spent a lot of time at the bar, scribbling in notebooks."

Rowan, Ben, Bill and I exchange looks, but Rubeus and Rosmerta don't seem to notice.

"Notebooks, you said?" I ask her.

"Aye," she says. "Then one day, a pair of Ministry Aurors grabbed him by the hood of his robes, and dragged him out the door. The only thing he left behind was a black quill."

 _A black quill._

My heart nearly stops. I feel Rowan's hand grabbing mine under the table.

"Madam, do you still have that quill?" I ask.

"Of course!" she says and my body relaxes. "I don't throw anything out, so I'm sure it's here somewhere. I'll look in the back, but it may take me a few days to find anything. It's a mess in there and no charm in the world could tidy it up."

She giggles and goes away to see if the other clients need anything. Rubeus smiles at us and gives me a tap on my back, going after Madam Rosmerta.

"Did you hear her?" Rowan says as soon as they are far from our table. "A black quill!"

"Athena, what if your brother transfigured his notes into the quill to hide them from the Ministry?" Bill asks.

"That's very likely," I say. "But the question is why the Ministry Aurors got upset because he was doing research on the Cursed Vaults?"

"I don't know," Bill says. "But the Ministry is filled with corrupts. My dad told me the most sinister stories from when You-Know-Who came to power. He had a lot of infiltrates _inside_ the Ministry. It was hard to discern the guilty from the innocents when he was finally defeated. Dad says there are still a lot of people working there who used to be Death Eaters."

"Just what we needed," Ben says. "Trouble with the Ministry. I'm scared already."

Rowan rolls her eyes.

"No time to be scared, _Benny_ ," she says. "So Hogwarts witnessed a murder once and there are Death Eaters in the Ministry. And Dumbledore expects us to leave to _him_ the job of finding Jacob and the Vaults? I say _fuck them all_!"

"A toast to that," I say, raising my mug.

"Cheers!" Bill says, taking a big gulp from his Butterbeer.

"Oh my," Ben mumbles, staring desperately at his mug.

* * *

The best thing about Hogsmeade was definitely Honeydukes. Rowan and I bought so much candy and we spent an adorable Sunday afternoon in the school grounds, sitting under a tree, doing our homework and eating a bunch of sweet treats.

One of my favorites so far it's still Chocolate Frogs. Mainly because the chocolate it's absurdly delicious, but also because I get to practice _Immobulus_ on them. I'm just finishing one of them while heading to another private Potions lesson, when I feel someone pulling me by my wrist and pushing me against the humid wall.

"Merula told me to spy on you," Barnaby says, his usual citrusy scent making me feel a bit numb.

"Isn't the most important part of being a spy _not_ telling your target that you're a spy?" I say, trying to keep my face composed.

"Is it?" he frowns.

I roll my eyes. Barnaby may be handsome as hell, but he's also a little bit dumb.

"Merula says you're mad and evil," he tells me. "But you seem quite nice."

Now it's my time to frown.

"Merula is a _liar_ ," I say. "Why are you helping her?"

"I don't want to," he confesses. "But she promised to make me the most powerful wizard at Hogwarts. I don't have a choice. Do I?"

His intense green eyes look straight into mine.

"Of course you have," I say. "You could study. Practice. Perfect your techniques," his scent is so intoxicating that I'm completely out of my mind when I say: "I could help you. We could study together."

"You smell like chocolate," he says. "I like chocolate."

And then he gets away, staring at me one last time, and goes away like nothing had happened.

"Miss Lockhart," Professor Snape's voice startles me. "What are you doing?"

"I'm…," I look at the corridor Barnaby just turned. "I'm not sure."

"Well, don't just stand there," he says. "We have elixirs to brew."

I spend the next hour helping him brew a lot of different elixirs, answering his usual questions, but my heart is racing the whole time. I keep wondering what Merula has on hold for me and if she would actually tell Barnaby to _hurt me_ one day. And why, oh God why, he has to make me feel so weird.

* * *

It is no surprise that trouble starts hovering over Hogwarts like vultures over a dead animal. The boggart in the Greenhouse was just the start: there are boggarts absolutely everywhere and the professors are already having a hard time trying to get rid of them all. A lot of students already passed out or panicked and the Hospital Wing is full of them.

I go there to get another anti-hemorrhagic potion – mainly because I don't wanna be bleeding and suffering with cramps during the Quidditch trials – and Madam Pomfrey practically throws the phial at me, looking completely distressed. Apparently, not even the Hospital Wing is boggart free. She now has to keep all the sheets away from the floor, so there's no dark environment under the beds.

During breakfast, a tawny owl drops a small package in front of me, its message confirming something that was already stinging inside of me.

 _Dear Athena,_

 _I managed to find your brother's quill. I hope to see you soon at the Three Broomsticks. I just invented a new and sweeter Butterbeer that I'm sure you'll love._

 _Best regards,_

 _Rosmerta._

I open the package very carefully, only to find a jet-black quill, just like the one that led us to Ben last year. Rowan looks at me with widened eyes, her mouth slightly opened like she's meaning to say something.

"I know," I tell her. "It's the same quill."

"Let's untransfigurate it," she says.

"Not here," I say. "Let's do it at the Clock Tower balcony. Before I go to the choir practice."

It's hard to eat after that, but I do my best. My stomach feels completely nauseated, but I'm sure it's just anxiety. The Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow and I have an unread, untransfigurated message from my brother. To add to all of this, Merula is manipulating Barnaby to scare me and who knows what other things she might be planning. God, I hope I do not vomit.

Rowan and I rush to the Clock Tower after almost swallowing our pancakes, thanking the universe for the balcony being completely empty. I draw my wand from my pocket; my heart beating so fast that my hand starts to tremble.

"Do it," Rowan says, looking as anxious as I am.

" _Reparifarge_ ," I cast, and as the spell hits the quill, is transforms into another scroll of parchment.

I gasp, my hands completely cold when I grab the scroll, unrolling it, the message making me feel the same woeful cold from the icy corridor.

"It's coded," I tell her.

"Let me see," she says, grabbing a book from her bag, her eyes running from the message to the pages of the book.

It takes a while for her to translate it, her fingers flipping the pages so fast that I'm starting to feel a little dizzy.

"These boggarts must have… something to do with the… spell… no, I think it's curse… protecting the next vault," she says slowly, her voice a little shaky. "Which means someone found it first. If I don't hurry, Hogwarts is… wait, let me find this rune… oh yes. _Doomed_."

"Look," I say, pointing something at the edge of a scroll. "There's an _R_ scribbled on the corner," I feel my heart almost stopping. "Oh my God," I look at her. "Is _my brother_ R?"

"Too soon to make assumptions," she says. "Maybe he was trying to say _R_ has something to do with it all."

"Or maybe R led him to these conclusions," I say. "What are we going to do?"

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?" she says, an intense flame in her eyes. "Let's reunite the squad and find the next vault."

* * *

 _My room._

 _Find my room, Athena._

 _Find me._

"Jacob!" I gasp, waking up drenched in sweat and my heart beating faster than a hummingbird's.

"Athena," I hear Tulip's voice in the darkness. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say. "Just a nightmare. Sorry."

I lay on my side, staring at Rowan's bed where she's sound asleep, thinking about our last journey to the vaults, where we defeated the Ice Knight and managed to find my brother's broken wand and that strange book. His voice, as clear in my mind as in the day I first heard it, begs me to find his room. But what room? I roll to lie on my back, staring at the dark curtains over the canopy, wondering if he's talking about his bedroom back in Sunderland.

 _But grandma took it all. If there was something important in there, it's in Lockhart Gardens now._

No. Madam Rosmerta mentioned Jake was a quiet boy, always scribbling things in the Three Broomsticks. He never mentioned being lonely or an outcast when he came home for the holidays or for summer vacations. He was always cheerful and energetic, and not at all gloomy and a loner. Even though he's five years older than me, our bonding has always been very strong. I'd sit for hours in his bedroom floor, listening him playing the guitar or simply enjoying some music in his jukebox. Who is this hermit secretive Jacob and why can't I seem to understand him? Why did he keep a secret life at Hogwarts and never said anything to me?

Or maybe he did.

I close my eyes, trying to remember our conversations, desperate to extract any piece of memory which can lead me to him. Instead, all I hear is his sweet voice in my head, singing me a sad lullaby, taking me back to dreamland.

I wake up too early; the first sunbeams starting to flood the dormitory. I get up and head to the bathroom, taking a warm shower to wash the night away from me, putting on some comfortable clothes for the Quidditch tryouts. I'm not feeling as anxious as I thought I would. Instead, all can think about is Jake and his secret room.

Rowan is worried as well, but she tries her best to cheer me up during breakfast.

"I'll be there watching the tryouts," she says. "And rooting for you!"

I haven't been to the Quidditch pitch even since we helped Ben to overcome his fear of flying. I'm holding my Silver Arrow tightly in my hand, its dark wood almost hot against my skin.

The whole team is already there; actually, just six of them. I look around to see if there's anyone else attempting to join the team, but it's only Rowan and I.

"Hi, Athena," a tall Asian boy greets me, his handsome face looking quite chuffed. "I don't think we have been properly introduced. I'm Isaac Ward, the team's captain."

I smile at him, taking another look to the rest of the team, all dressed in Ravenclaw's Quidditch uniform.

"It seems you'll be the only one applying for the team today," he says, but he doesn't seem disappointed.

"Really?" I say. "Why?"

"Everybody is terrified of those boggarts," he explains. "I don't know if they're scared the boggarts will haunt the changing rooms or something, but no one was interested to try to join the team today."

"That's awful," I say. "I guess."

"Maybe it's your lucky day," he says. "We are in desperate need for a good seeker. Our seeker graduated, but he wasn't that good anyway."

"I'm sure she'll be great," another boy says. His skin is of a cinnamon color, his hair is short, black and curly, and he's wearing a Pride of Portree bright purple scarf, even though is freaking hot in the pitch. "I'm Andre Egwu. The team's beater."

" _One_ of the team's beater," a black haired guy says, but he looks older than Andre. "I'm Matt Miller."

"Okay, okay," Isaac says. "Let's all make the proper introductions. Athena, these are Jack Walker, Will Parker and Riley Foster, our team's chasers. And you've already met Matt and Andre, our beaters."

"Girl, you sure need some fashion advises," Andre tells me, looking directly to the denim overalls I'm wearing.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" I ask, trying not to take it personally.

"The clothes make the wizard," he says.

"I thought _magic_ made the wizard," Rowan says, her hands on her hips.

"Want to try and join to team too, Rowan?" Isaac asks with a smile.

"Nope," she says. "I do not aspire becoming a Quidditch player. My sole destiny is to become Hogwarts' youngest teacher ever."

"Anyway," Andre continues, an amused smile on his lips. "The better you look, the better you feel and the better you are at Quidditch. Or, in your case, curse-breaking."

"I beg your pardon?" I say, wondering if everyone at school knows what I'm up to.

"The cursed ice trapped us in the changing rooms," Isaac says. "You saved our lives."

"Alright, alright," the boy named Matt says. "We can talk more about Athena's amazing witching abilities later. Now, let's see if she can catch the _Snitch_ ," he smirks.

They lend me a set of the uniform and Rowan walks with me to the changing rooms.

"Oh my God," she says. "You'll be the _only girl_ in a team full of boys! Lucky you," she smiles.

"Lucky me if I make it to the team," I say.

"Of course you will!" she says. "You defeated an _Ice Knight_! Grabbing the golden snitch will be a piece of cake!"

"Hope you're right," I tell her, grabbing my broom and going back to the pitch.

The whole team is prepared: Riley is holding the quaffle, I can hear the bludgers shrieking inside the locked box and Isaac has the golden snitch secure in his hand.

"Here's your challenge, Athena," he says. "You have to find and grab the snitch before our chasers score fifty points. With my amazing keeper abilities, you'll probably have time to spare."

 _And amazing modesty._

I take a deep breath before climbing my broom, taking a gentle leap and rising in the air, the Silver Arrow taking me up so fast that my heart starts racing. On the floor, Isaac releases the bludgers and the snitch, quickly getting on his broom and flying to the goalposts.

He blows a whistle and the chasers immediately start racing, throwing the quaffle one to another, so fast it's hard to keep up with them. I take a good look around, trying to spot the golden snitch, but I don't see it. I circle the pitch, my eyes moving so fast and so focused on finding the tiny golden ball that I almost miss a bludger coming towards me. I manage to dodge it in the last second, my heart beating fast from the adrenaline.

"Sorry, Athena!" Matt says, waving at me with the bat in his hand.

 _Oh my._

I lean forward, going as fast as I can, my head turning from side to side, trying to find the snitch. I dodge another bludger, this time sent by Mr. I'm-So-Stylish-Egwu.

And then I see it.

Close to the goalposts, flying next to Isaac's feet.

I don't even think about it; I just fly as fast as possible, my arm reaching out, only relaxing when I feel the cold golden ball safe in my palm, my fingers wrapping around it.

"Gotcha!" I say to the snitch, an overwhelming feeling flooding my soul.

"Way to go, Athena!" Isaac says. "I almost didn't see you coming."

The team flies to the ground, summoning the bludgers back to the box, as I hand Isaac the golden snitch.

"God, I missed Quidditch," Riley says with a satisfied smile.

"You were amazing, Athena," Isaac says, giving me a gentle punch in my arm.

Thank goodness he knows I'm a girl and not one of them trolls. They're all tall and strong, Matt being the bulkiest of them, but the chasers aren't far behind. Only Isaac, maybe, is the leanest of them.

"We'll send you an owl with our final decision," Isaac says with a smirk. "Just kidding. You're in."

I flash him a confused face, but he wraps his arm around my neck and messes my hair, like I'm his little sister or something. I suppose I'll have to get used to this; being smashed, pushed and pulled around by a bunch of boys.

Lucky me.


	36. Year 3: Chapter 8 - Lies and Keys

**Introduction:** Hi everyone! How are you all doing? I want to thank you all so much for the sweet reviews and messages and I want to send a special shout out to **Son of Whitebeard** , **James** and **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** for the kind reviews on my last chapter. I really hope you guys enjoy today's chapter! Also, don't forget to check out my new HM Instagram _jillklein_. _ff_. I've been posting the characters aesthetics and stuff. Well, my question for you guys today is a bit more serious: _do you think the Ministry of Magic has something to do with Jacob's disappearance?_ Let me know your theories. As you guys already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Eight – Lies and Keys**

 _My lovely little witch,_

 _We couldn't be more proud of you! Congratulations for joining Ravenclaw's Quidditch Team. And don't care about people saying it was just because you were the only one to try to join; you'll show them all how amazing you are on the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff match (which we'll be sure to go and watch, of course)._

 _About Jake's mysterious behavior: I also would've never imagined him having so many secrets. I'm not quite sure where his room might be. I searched through his stuff, but there was nothing odd about them. If he had a secretive life in Hogwarts, maybe his room is somewhere in the castle too. Let me know if you find anything._

 _Your friend Bill is absolutely correct: there are some major problems at the Ministry. A lot of You-Know-Who's followers alleged they were under the Imperio curse, but I'm sure there were a lot of liars among them. If the Ministry had something to do with Jake's disappearance, please, be very careful._

 _And about the boggarts terrorizing the school: I suggest you study and learn the Boggart-Banishing spell. Maybe you could ask Professor Snape to teach you. If he's so willing to teach you potions, I'm sure he'll teach how to cast this spell. I'm sure you'll be a great potion maker one day, just like your grandma._

 _All my loving,_

 _Grandpa._

I read grandpa's letter about ten times trying to absorb those information. If Jake's room is somewhere in the castle, it will take ages for us to find it. It took months for Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to find Ben and he was trapped in ice in the middle of a forsaken corridor. How many forgotten or hidden rooms might be in this castle?

I look at Rowan, but her eyes are glued to the Daily Prophet, her mouth opened in complete shock.

"Row?" I call. "What's wrong?"

"Oh. My. God," she says. "Read this!"

She hands me the newspaper and my jaw drops when I see a big picture of Jake – the same one mum was holding the day she died – and I have to blink a few times to make sure it's _actually_ real.

 **DEATH EATER OR SIMPLY MAD?**

 _by Rita Skeeter_

 _About to turn eighteen, the young wizard Jacob Lockhart completes his third anniversary in the Missing Person List. The only son of Christopher Hodges and the deceased Annette Lockhart is known for his attraction to the Dark Arts as well as his obsession with the mythical Cursed Vaults in Hogwarts. Rumor has it that the boy was involved and it's a possible follower of You-Know-Who, hence the reason of his appealing to the Vaults – which are claimed to possess great power and fortune -, in a likely desperate attempt to bring back his master. The director of the Animagus Registry Department and Jacob's father, Mr. Hodges affirms he wasn't aware of his son's inclination towards the Dark Arts. "He has always been responsible and very bookish," he said in our recent interview. The thirty-eight year old widower buried his wife on July 10_ _th_ _, who committed suicide after struggling with depression for years. "She lost hope that our son would ever come back," Mr. Hodges said, with tears in his eyes. For this young father's great dismay, his daughter Athena Lockhart, who is now attending her third year in Hogwarts – as a mezzo-soprano member of the Frog Choir and Ravenclaw's Quidditch Team seeker – has shown to present the same inclination towards the Cursed Vaults as her brother. Perhaps there's an actual curse flowing in the Lockhart blood. Let's just all hope the young Lockhart witch doesn't have the same fate as her older brother. Meanwhile, the pride of the Lockhart family, the young Gilderoy Lockhart, has recently published his new bestselling book: Wandering with Werewolves; available in every Wizarding bookshop around the world._

"Unbelievable," I murmur, so much rage flowing through my apparently cursed blood that my only instinct is to smash that disgusting newspaper in a tight ball and rush through the Great Hall, holding a scream in my throat.

I don't stop until I reach Ravenclaw's changing room; the only place I knew would be completely empty. I kick the metal lockers, feeling so angry that I might burst. I kick it again, finally releasing the scream that was contained inside of me.

"LIAR!" I yell to no one, wishing I could stick that goddamn newspaper down Rita Skeeter's mouth.

I crash in one of the benches, hiding my face in my hands, feeling a bunch of tears overflowing my eyes. From behind my closed lids, I can see Jake's smile and remember his contagious laughter.

No.

He would never be a Death Eater and he was never inclined towards the Dark Arts. Even though my brother had a side I didn't knew, he was no psychopath; he was sweet and generous and clever and responsible.

I raise my head, staring at the blue lockers.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he wasn't being reckless or irresponsible or blind for the power. His message said Hogwarts would be doomed if he didn't do anything. And maybe that's it.

 _Maybe he was just trying to save everyone._

* * *

"Rita Skeeter is a foul human being," Rowan says when I lay next to her in my bed. "She's a motherfucking bitch who deserves to be stepped on like a beetle."

"You're definitely increasing your cursing vocabulary, Row," I say in a sigh, remembering all of Rita's awful words about my brother. "But if you didn't know me, would you believe her?"

"Of course not," she says. "Rita Skeeter only writes tabloid journalism. You can never take anything she says seriously. Bill always says that."

"Bill, huh?" I raise my brows at her.

"We're been studying together while you're taking your private lessons with Professor Shadow."

I roll my eyes. The worst part isn't having Rita Skeeter writing about my brother; is that _my father_ gave her an interview.

Rowan ends up falling asleep next to me, her arm carelessly fallen over my stomach. It's good to have her around; her presence sooths my emotions. My lids start to get heavier and heavier, and my heart calms itself enough for me to finally fall asleep.

This was probably one of the most interesting and useful dreams I've had so far:

I was standing in the middle of our Common Room; the fire was crackling in the fireplace and I could hear Twilight hooting in the window. And right in front of me, standing next to Rowena's statue, was my brother.

"Jake," I said, but when I tried walking to him, he ran.

I ran after him, but he left the Common Room, running so fast that it was hard to keep up with him. He turned corridor after corridor, until I found myself in the Clock Tower, very close to the Choir Room. I looked around and saw Jake sneaking into a room, which looked very much like a broom closet. The door was almost imperceptible against the stone wall, but when I tried to open it, it was locked.

Rowan walks with me to that corridor on Wednesday morning, before my choir practice. I rush to that same wall from my dream, but there is no door. Instead, there is a big tapestry of a man with a pointy hat, looking to an owl over a table full of candles.

"There's no door here," I say, feeling awfully disappointed.

"Your dreams are never wrong," she says, running her fingers over the tapestry. She grabs one of the edges and pulls it aside. "Check mate."

My heart can barely take it. Right behind the tapestry there's the exact door from my dreams, made of a greyish wood, almost merging to the background. My hand reaches for the doorknob, but there's a big double key padlock keeping it locked.

" _Alohomora!_ " I cast, but nothing happens. "God dammit!"

"So close," Rowan says. "Maybe we could knock the door down."

"And the whole castle would hear it," I sigh. "Now we need to find the keys."

"Wait," Rowan says, getting closer to the lock. "There's something written in the padlock. _T.K._ "

"T.K.?" I ask. "What's that?"

"Could be a lot of things," she says. "The brand of the lock, a secret code or even the initials of the owner."

I look at her, feeling completely dismayed. But then something hits me… like a bludger during a Quidditch match… like a spell on Merula's face… like… like a lot of things.

" _Tulip Karasu_ ," I whisper.

"Do you think Tulip has something to do with this?" Rowan asks.

"Think about it," I say. "She has been friends with Merula and Merula is looking for the vaults too. And do you remember what Merula said? That she found someone to help her with this quest. I highly doubt she was talking about Barnaby or Ismelda."

"Why would Tulip even _help_ Merula?" Rowan gasps. "It's insane!"

"But how much do we _actually_ know about Tulip?" I ask. "If she's friends with Merula, is highly likely that she's involved."

"But we can't just _assume_ that these two initials are hers," she says. "They could mean a lot of things."

"Yeah, but we don't have much time," I say. "According to Jake's message, Hogwarts might be doomed. If we're wrong about Tulip, then all we have to do is apologize."

"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?" Rowan smiles. "Now go to your choir practice. We can talk to Tulip tonight."

* * *

We manage to intercept Tulip in the dorm while she's scribbling something in her notebook. The rest of the girls are still in the Common Room, so we'll have plenty of privacy.

"Hey Tulip", I say, sitting at the edge of her bed. "How are you?"

"Good," she smiles. "And you girls?"

"We're fine, I guess," I say. "Listen, there's something we want to talk to you."

"I'm listening," she says. "But first, you must solve a little riddle."

" _Okay_ ," I frown.

She opens her nightstand and grabs a little frog statue and a very weird object. She attaches them together, tap her wand on the frog and it starts moving. Then she presses a small button and looks at us with complete thrill.

"I don't think I follow," I say.

"It's simple," she says. "This is a bomb. All you have to do is prevent it from exploding the dorm and I'll answer all of your questions."

" _What?_ " Rowan shrieks. " _Why?_ "

"Because it's funny," she giggles. "Come on, you girls are amazing witches. You'll figure this out right away."

Rowan and I exchange scared looks. The little frog bomb keeps ticking, somehow like a clock, and my heart starts racing.

"How long do we have?" I ask.

"Not much," she smiles.

"Holy crap!" Rowan says, taking a few steps back. "Athie, what are we gonna do?"

"Let me think, let me think," I say, starting to panic.

I press my lips together, staring at that ticking bomb, pretty much aware that I'm no idea how to disarm a bomb.

" _Finite Incantatem!_ " I cast, but nothing seems to happen.

"The bomb is not a spell," Tulip giggles. "It's an actual bomb."

I gasp, holding my wand tight in my hand, taking a look at a very panicked Rowan, who's walking from side to side, moaning "We're all gonna die".

" _Reducio!_ " I cast, and the frog becomes the size of a small breath mint.

I rush to the dorm window, throwing the frog as far away as I can.

" _Confringo!_ " I yell the first spell that comes to my mind, one of the many ones I practiced for the vaults.

I close my eyes, but the explosion isn't as intense as I anticipated. Instead, the tiny frog bursts into small fireworks, vanishing in the night sky.

"Holy shit!" Rowan shouts. "We almost died!"

She looks at me with widened eyes and my heart is racing like crazy. I look at Tulip, who's happily rolling in her bed, laughing out loud, almost losing her breath. Rowan sighs and I take a few deep breaths to calm down my heart.

"Amazing, Athena!" Tulip says with a big smile. "That's was really something."

I frown, seeing a side of Tulip that I had never seen before.

" _Okay,_ " I say. "Now that the bomb is out of the way-"

"I'll answer any questions you have for me," she grins.

"Very well," I say, leaning against the pillar of her bed. "We want to ask you about-"

"Why are you friends with Merula?" Rowan interrupts me.

Tulip's smile instantly dissolves and she blinks her big brown eyes at us.

"We're not friends anymore," she says, but her tone is a little bit sad.

"We found a padlock with your initials," Rowan continues.

Are we _really_ playing Good Cop/Bad Cop in here? Will she aim her wand at Tulip's face and yells until she confesses?

"Yeah," she says. "To your brother's room," she looks at me with big puppy eyes.

"We need the keys," I say. "I must find him, Tulip."

"I know," she sighs. "Your motives are far nobler. Here," she reaches for her pocket, grabbing a big golden key.

"But it's a double key padlock," I say with a frown.

"Yeah," she repeats. "The second key will be a little tricky to recover."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because Merula has it."


	37. Year 3: Chapter 9 - Forget Me Not

**Introduction:** Happy August 1st, witches! Not that there's something particularly special about today – except for the dozens of holidays that are celebrated today all around the world –, but in Brazil is just another ordinary day. August has the tendency of feeling like the longest (and sometimes endless) month of the year, so let's make the most out of it. I'll soon begin writing my Master's thesis, so wish me luck. I'd like to send a big shout out to **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **Rina** , **KaramelKat** , **Son of Whitebeard** and **James** for the usual marvelous reviews. You guys are awesome! I'd also like to ask the 38 of you who are following this story, to also leave your comment so I know how you are feeling about the characters, plot and stuff. My question for you guys today is: _which of the Hogwarts Mystery characters would most likely be your best friend (Rowan, Penny, Tulip, Tonks, Barnaby, Bill, Charlie or Andre)?_ I think I'd get along with Charlie (hence the fact that I'm a biologist), because he's super enthusiastic and goofy. What about you guys? Well, I hope you enjoy today's chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Nine – Forget Me Not**

Hogwarts is doomed.

I'm pretty sure of that.

Because how I am supposed to steal a key from Merula?

Should I actually attempt to use _Reducio_ on myself again and sneak into Slytherin's Common Room?

That's tempting.

Very tempting.

September is ending and autumn is beginning, but the beautifulness of the changing leaves doesn't make me more inclined to steal something from Merula. This isn't nearly as easy as recovering the black quill from Gryffindor's Common Room.

Especially because there aren't psychos lurking inside Gryffindor's Common Room.

Like Ismelda, for example.

Rowan, Ben and I are spending our second blessed weekend at Hogsmeade, sitting at the Three Broomsticks, trying Madam Rosmerta's new Butterbeer. It's freaking sweet, but it's incredibly delicious.

We decide to take a walk around the village, our arms entwined to keep us warm. We're like a very weird human chain.

"Let's go to Honeydukes," Rowan says. "I need more caramels."

The store is completely full, but Rowan manages to grab a bunch of caramel boxes. I'm looking at some very interesting chocolates when Ben pulls Rowan and I down, to hide behind the shelf.

"What the fuck?" Rowan says, experiencing the awesomeness of foul-mouthing.

"Merula and her cronies are here," he whispers.

I raise my head a bit, just to see Merula's messy hair, looking at some candy in the shelf next to us. Barnaby has a mint candy box in his hand – the reason for the freshness of his breath, I suppose – and Ismelda is just looking at everything that with a disgusted face.

"We've searched everywhere," Merula gasps. "We're never going to find a Cursed Vault."

Is she really speaking of this in here, with a lot of people around?

"We should cast the _Cruciatus_ curse on Lockhart and her friends," Ismelda says. "Torture makes everyone talk."

Ben looks at me with frightened eyes.

"Talking to _you_ is torture," Merula sighs. "You have some serious issues, Ismelda."

"We should ask Dumbledore," Barnaby suggests, and I can't help but to giggle. "He's really smart."

"Dumbledore spent half his welcome speech telling us to _stay away from the vaults_!" Merula hisses.

"We could give him Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," he says. "I've heard he likes it."

"Sometimes I wonder if your _brain_ was replaced by a Bertie Bott's Bean," she says, grabbing the mint box from his hand and putting it back on the shelf. "Let's get out of here."

"But I wanted some mints," Barnaby complains, but rushes after the two girls.

Ben, Rowan and I stand up; Ben's eyes expressing everything I'm currently thinking.

 _What. The. Actual. Fuck._

* * *

The fact that Merula hasn't been able to find another vault gives me a boost of confidence during the Quidditch practice on Monday. Ben is still pretty terrified that Ismelda might cast an Unforgivable Curse at him, so he's walking around the castle with tremendous fear, jumping scared every time we pass by him.

Isaac and the boys certainly do not care that I'm a girl. They're merciless and fearless, throwing bludgers at me and almost knocking me off my broom. Still, I manage to catch the snitch fast enough, avoiding to be killed by those trolls.

"Keep up the good work," Isaac says, giving me a tap on my back. "We're gonna slay those Hufflepuffs with you in our team."

Andre didn't give up trying to give me a makeover. When I dismounted from my broom, my hair tied in a messy bun, he looked me from top to bottom and made several suggestions; from hair colors that would suit me best to what's my actual skin undertone. I rolled me eyes and simply walked back to the castle for lunch and another lesson with Professor Leech.

"Today we are learning about _Carpe Retractum_ ," he says, his fangs glistening under the candle lights.

There's something alluring about his voice, and I'm not sure it's because he's a singer or because he's part vampire.

Maybe both.

Every sentence that slides from his mouth seems to make Rowan and a lot of other students look more and more mesmerized. Rowan herself has her face rested on her hand, looking at him like she's seeing the moon for the first time. I avoid his eyes, simply making notes about the spell we're about to learn.

His lectures are long and somewhat melodic, and he glides around the classroom with his black cape flowing behind him, almost like he's floating. We lack the time to properly practice the spell, but I promise myself to try it on the Ravenclaw Common Room.

Rowan stays a little longer in class to ask a bunch of questions to Professor I'm-Gonna-Drink-Your-Blood and I walk alone to the Divination classroom. The pathway is clear and the warm breeze makes my hair flow from side to side. Right before I reach the stairs to the classroom, someone pulls me by my wrist. The citrusy scent finds me before I have the chance to turn around.

"Barnaby," I say, trying to look bored, though my heart starts racing when I meet his bright green eyes.

"Where's the next vault?" he asks, looking at me with raised brows.

 _I forgot how tall he is._

"I don't know," I say, placing my hands in my hips.

"Spit it out, Lockhart," he says, his hand closing around my neck. He doesn't apply any pressure, though I actually feel a little startled.

"Do I look like I'm lying?" I gaze intensely into his eyes.

His eyes seem to lose a little bit of the austerity; his brows relax and he seems a bit confused.

"You look flushed, actually," he says. "Are you okay?"

I frown. I honestly don't know what happens inside his head.

"I have class now," I say. "Can you let me go?"

His hand relaxes around my neck and he places it in his vests' pocket. My hand is drawn to my own pocket and I grab a small candy I got from Honeydukes.

"Here," I say, throwing the mint to him. "Your favorites."

He looks at the small greenish candy in the palm of his big hand and blinks at me with baffled eyes. I don't know how Merula managed to convince him to help her; he doesn't look like someone who would hurt me for power or fortune. In fact, he just looks a bit disoriented.

I turn my back to him and enter the Divination classroom with my heart still beating a little weirdly.

* * *

The evening before Halloween brings a grim, somewhat toxic atmosphere to the castle; and not only because of the fake moving spiders, bats and the real ghosts everywhere. Though Rowan is absolutely exultant to go study with Bill while I head to the dungeons, everyone else seems to be gloomy. Merula looks absolutely pissed all day long, Ben is awfully scared of every single decoration, Penny's face bears complete dismay and even Professor Snape looks distant and distracted.

"Professor?" I say when the potions turns bright green and his eyes get lost in the color. "We can't wait too long before adding the lily petals."

He swallows hard, starring at the perfumed flower petals in his hand. I'm not sure why he looks so aloof, so I simply grab the petals from his hand and add them to the potion, watching them dissolve and release an orange fume. He blinks a few times and presses his lips together, like something is terribly wrong.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine," he says, simply. "It wouldn't work out if you hadn't done it. I'm just… a little distracted today."

"Is everything alright?" I ask, wondering if he would ever share any preoccupation with me.

"Of course," he says. "Continue the potion. I'll be watching."

His voice carries a bit of sadness and it makes me think of Holly's words. Maybe, behind that dark and shadowy façade, he's just hurting.

I continue my potion in silence, carefully adding the ingredients one by one, like he taught me, until we're left with a pearlescent green solution. I add them to the bottles and label them, though he's not actually watching me as he said he would. Somewhere between my adding pondweed extract and fairy wings, he sat by his desk, holding his black quill but not writing anything. I watched him from the corner of my eyes, wishing there was something I could do about it.

He didn't look at me when I left the dungeons and went to the Great Hall, but his eyes were in my dreams that night; sad, lost and resentful… a thousand lily petals flowing around them.

Rowan seems to be completely thrilled on Halloween morning, brushing her hair until it got completely straight, smooth and shiny, waltzing by my side to have breakfast. Before we got there, I saw Penny lurking behind a statue, looking to both sides before rushing to the dungeons, looking awfully suspicious.

"I'll meet you in a second, Row," I say, rushing after Penny, finding her inside the Potions classroom, entering Professor Snape's private storage. " _Penny_ ," I whispered. " _What are you doing?_ "

Her baby blue eyes were pure desperation.

"Help me find a few ingredients," she says, her words looking like a begging request.

"Are you stealing from Professor Snape's private room?" I say. "Why?"

" _Please, Athena,_ " she says, tears coming to her eyes. "You owe me."

Touché.

"But why are you doing this?" I ask.

"There's no time to explain," she says, climbing the wooden stairs to get to the higher shelves.

"Penny, this is wrong!" I say.

"I knew you wouldn't help me," she cries, grabbing a bunch of flasks and putting them in her pocket.

"Penny, wait," I say, grabbing her wrist as she tries running from the dungeons. "What the hell is going on? Why do you need these ingredients for?"

"Just help me," she grapples my sleeves with tears falling down her eyes. " _Please._ "

I swallow hard. Her eyes gaze desperately into mine, her pretty face twisted in a sorrowful expression and I feel my heart slowly breaking. Whatever she's planning on doing, it's obvious that it's important to her. She helped me so many times in my attempts of finding my brother that I just can't refuse her. So I just nod and she grabs me by my hand, rushing corridor after corridor, until we get to Ben's old Artifact Room.

There's a bubbling cauldron on the floor, along with other ingredients, supplies and a piece of parchment with carefully written instructions.

She sits in front of the cauldron with her legs crossed and starts adding the ingredients, mixing them and counting the minutes to add the next one. I see Valerian sprigs, Lethe River water, mistletoe berries… These ingredients sound very familiar to me, but I just sit across from her, helping her when she asks me to chop the sprigs and to count as she stirs the potion fifteen times so she doesn't make it incorrectly.

I'm pretty sure we're going to miss breakfast, but I tell my rumbling stomach to shut up. I needed her and now she needs me. This cannot be a unilateral friendship; I need to be here for her as much as she was there for me.

It takes a while, but the potion finally turns into a translucent blue solution when she waves her wand at it. She fills a bottleful of potion and sighs, two glistening tears falling down her cheeks.

"Penny," I say, looking at her while she stares longingly to the bottle. "What's going on?"

Her eyes find mine and more tears fall down them.

"Remember how my boggart took the form of a werewolf?" she says, her voice trembling. "It wasn't just any werewolf," she swallows hard, her lips shaking. "Every summer my family spends time in the country… I had a friend up there… a Muggle friend," more tears fall along with her memories. " _Scarlett._ "

She sniffs, trying to contain more tears, and I land a hand over her shoulder.

"Last year we went out for a walk and saw a werewolf," I can see her knuckles turning white for holding the bottle too tightly. "She was fascinated and wanted to see where it was going. I had my wand, but then it noticed us and I froze."

I feel my mouth opening, feeling slightly gaped.

"By the time I had the courage to do something, it was too late for her," she tells me. "She's dead because of me. It hurts to remember it, Athena. I want to forget."

And then I get it.

It's a Forgetfulness Potion.

I'm heartbroken. It is instinctive and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to a hug. She buries her face in my hair, sobbing and crying so hard that it sounds like an injured animal. I caress her hair tenderly as her tears wet my robes.

"Forgetting won't change what happened," I sigh, my mom's face coming to my mind. "What if you forget more than you intended to? What if you forget yourself?"

I repeat the same words Holly said to me when I hugged her and cried about wanting to forget my mother's passing.

"Our memories make us who we are. They make us stronger," she sobs a little less. "Scarlett would want you to remember her."

I hear the sound of something breaking when the bottle slips of her fingers and falls to the floor, the bluish potion spreading around our feet. Her arms surround me in a tight embrace and I let her sob for a few more minutes, until she raises her eyes at me and smiles sadly. I dry the last tears with my hands, her wet cheeks looking a bit smushed after having them pressed against my shoulders. Her blue eyes are a bit red and puffy and she sighs.

"How am I going to tell Professor Snape I stole from his personal storage?" she asks. "He'll hate me forever. I'll spend the rest of my life in detention."

"Don't worry about it," I tell her. "I'll talk to him."

"Will you?" I see another tear forming in the corner of her eye. "He'll probably listen to you," she sighs. "You're his favorite student."

I frown.

"I am?" I ask, the words making no sense to me.

"Of course," she says. "He wouldn't teach you after class if he didn't like you."

It still makes no sense that I might be the teacher's pet; especially _Professor Snape's_ pet. But in that very moment I'm not worried about it. I wrap my arm around Penny's neck and walk with her to the Great Hall, where everybody is finishing having breakfast and it's almost time for me to start my daily classes.

By the time I finish the Quidditch practice, I'm starving; I join Rowan in the Ravenclaw table, wondering how I'll bring up the subject that I helped Penny steal from the potions storage. Millions of detentions and lectures pop in my mind, but when I take a look at the teacher's table, Professor Snape isn't there.

When we walk past the Potions classroom while heading to Professor Lorcan's lesson, I notice a sign attached to the door, with Professor Snape's handwriting:

 _Potions classes canceled for the day._

I exchange looks with Rowan, feeling somehow worried about him.

"At least we'll have more free time," she shrugs, and I'm not sure if I see this as a positive thing.

 _You're his favorite student, Athena._ Penny's words haunt me during Professor Lorcan's lesson and I decide to skip my alleged free time and check on my Potions teacher.

You know.

Just in case.


	38. Year 3: Chapter 10 - Pain and Betrayal

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you all doing today? I wanna send a big shout out to **James, KaramelKat** , **greysanatomiac007** and **Son of Whitebeard** for the sweet reviews on my last chapter. I'm incredibly happy that you guys are enjoying the story. Now for today's question, I'd like to know your Hogwarts Mystery OTPs. Yeah, I know. Random as hell, but I'd like to know. I won't tell you mine, because I think it may spoil some future chapters. I'm also following a bunch of HM Instagram pages and I noticed a lot of people dislike Rowan. What do you think of her? Anyway, I hope you like today's chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Ten – Pain and Betrayal**

The Potions classroom is locked when I try to open it after Arithmancy class. It's very tempting to use _Alohomora_ on it, but I know it wouldn't be correct. So I knock a few times, but after no response I go back to the Great Hall to enjoy the Halloween feast. Rowan is already there, stuffing her mouth with pumpkin pie, looking very satisfied with herself, and doesn't seem to care when I mention Professor Snape's locked door.

"He must have his reasons," she shrugs.

I'm still not feeling quite well about it, and when his eyes reappear in my dreams again, I start to feel even worse.

He doesn't show up for breakfast or lunch during the following day and I start to wonder if the classroom will be opened for our private lesson. I don't know why I'm so worried about him, but something about my dreams keeps me uneasy for the whole day, until it's finally six o'clock and I head decisively to the dungeons.

 _If the door is still locked, I'll knock it down._

But it isn't.

In fact, there's a small opened gap, though when I push it back, he's nowhere to be seen. I wander around the classroom – looking gloomy as always – and leave my bag over a random table. I sit right next to it; my legs crossed, and wait for a few minutes, wondering how long it will take for him to scold me for siting over a desk.

It takes several minutes for me to realize we won't be having private lessons today. I check my watch: it's six twenty.

Right when I'm about to grab my bag and leave the dungeons, I hear something in the distance. At first, sounds like a gasp or a moan; but after a few seconds of silence, I realize they're sobs. They're rather discrete and low, but I can hear them: a few sparse sobs and one or other sniffing sound.

I frown, looking around, and then I see an adjacent door slightly opened. Though I know it's wrong and I shouldn't do it, I walk to the door and open it a bit more, standing right under the archway, finding myself looking to a small office, loaded with curious ingredients in glass bottles and a lot of dusty books.

He doesn't see me; he's sitting by a desk, staring at something he's holding, his eyes seeming lost in the distance. I clear my throat, trying to think of a good way to call his attention without startling him, but it doesn't work. His eyes quickly turn to face me, looking strangely red, and he has evident dark circles under them.

"I've forgotten," he says, sniffing while straightening his back. "Forgive me, Miss Lockhart. But I think I'll-"

"It's okay," I say. "I just wanted to check if you're well."

"I'm fine," he sighs, a moody tone in his voice. "Our lessons are canceled for now," he stares at me with tired eyes. "Go away."

And then he turns his chair around, turning his back at me, and I experience the same thing I felt when I saw Penny crying. I'm obviously not gonna hug him or caress his hair, so I simply stick my hand in my pocket, grab Chocolate Frog box and leave it over his desk.

"Here," I say. "They always make me feel better."

He turns his head to face me, his face twisted in a frown, his eyes still a little watery. I smile at him, just turning the corners of my lips slightly upwards – the kind of smile which is gentle – and his face seems to relax. I turn around and go back to the classroom, grabbing my bag, heading to the Great Hall.

Something stops me before I leave the room; I hear them before I see them, so I simply lean my back against the door, listening from the inside.

"I'm casting the Killing Curse on the next Gryffindor I see," I hear Ismelda say.

"You don't even know the Killing Curse," Merula's voice is sharp.

"I accidentally sat on a Bowtruckle once," Barnaby says.

I smile and try to suppress a giggle. Barnaby may be one of Merula's current cronies, but he's somewhat adorable. I roll my eyes at my own thoughts.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Merula hisses.

"I thought we were talking about killing things," he says.

"I hate you both," she says. "I've taken everything I could from Lockhart's brother room. And nothing led to nowhere!"

I hear her going away, her steps harsh against the stone floor. I rest my head against the wooden door, sighing. Tulip's heavy key seems to call me and I reach my hand into my pocket, wrapping my fingers around it. I still don't know how I'll manage to recover the other key, but there's something to be done about this school. There are too many wrongs and too many people looking for them for the wrong reasons. Why are there Cursed Vaults and why did my brother go missing because of them? Why there was a murder in the castle and why didn't the faculty managed to prevent it?

When I finally go back to the dorm with Rowan, Professor Snape's gloomy eyes are still clouding up my mind. I sit on the edge of my bed, removing my loafers, when I notice an envelope over my pillow.

There's no addresser and nothing written on it; I open it, unfolding the thick parchment, an unfamiliar handwriting composing a letter to me.

 _Dear Athena Lockhart,_

 _You are in grave danger. Your investigation into the Cursed Vaults has drawn the attention of a group who is not to be trifled with. Be careful, but remain courageous. I'm depending on you to reach the final vault before the others. I will assist you when I can. I hope that the next time I deliver you a message, the circumstances are far less mysterious._

 _Sincerely, A friend._

I frown, squinting my eyes upon those words. The mattress gives in a little bit when Rowan kneels on my bed right behind me, reading the letter from over my shoulder. Once again, I don't know what to think. I crumble over my bed, the letter carelessly fallen over my chest, and I close my eyes and my mind to the world.

"These messages," Rowan says, lying next to me. "They're so odd. I wonder if it was R who wrote this one too."

"I'm not sure I trust this person," I sigh. "Whoever she or he is."

"We have to find the next vault," she says. "Before Merula or anyone else. Someone is definitely playing a dangerous game, tampering with the vaults like this, releasing beasts and curses all around the school."

"I wonder if this is what our school life is gonna be," I say. "Cleaning someone else's mess, but getting in trouble for doing so."

"I still think it's very honorable what you always do. Taking all the blame and not getting the rest of us in trouble. Though I don't really think you should do it. We're in this together, you know."

"I know," I open my eyes to look at her. "Everything was possible just because you were there with me. It makes no sense that I get you guys in trouble just because I wanna find my brother. You guys are already being very sweet helping me find him. Even though it's not your fight."

She rests her head against my shoulder and I rest mine against her head, our hairs mixing up in blonde and black swirls. I feel so glad to have met her and for having her with me; and also for Penny, Ben and Bill's friendship and loyalty. Though we're not exactly long-term friends, they have proven to be the best friends someone could ask for. Because after all, if we don't stay united, how are we supposed to survive this school?

* * *

Potions class is just like it has always been when Friday arrives; Professor Snape still holds an extra gloominess, but he doesn't project it in his lesson. He doesn't look at me either. I'm not sure why it matters so much to me if he's feeling well or if he's sad and I spend the whole lesson focusing on my annotations and on brewing my potion correctly, somehow wondering if my flawless result will, in some way, make him feel a bit better.

Stupid. I know. But ever since Penny said I'm his favorite student, I've been feeling more determined to prove him I'm worthy of his time.

I sit with Rowan, Penny, Ben and Bill in the Three Broomsticks on Saturday, drinking Butterbeer and talking about the mysterious message left on my bed.

"Everything about the Cursed Vaults emanates mystery," Bill says. "Actually, everything about this _school_ emanates mystery."

"I just wish these boggarts would go away," Ben sighs. "I have found two already. The first time it turned into a clown and the other into a scorpion."

"If only Professor Blood-Drinker would teach us how to get rid of them," Bill rolls his eyes.

"Don't call him that!" Rowan says, offended. "Lorcan d'Eath is amazing."

"I admit he's the best Dark Arts teacher we've had in a while," Bill says. "But he's not following the book. He is teaching whatever pleases him the most, not exactly what's useful for us right now."

"Perhaps he feeds on fear," I suggest. "And blood, obviously."

Rowan rolls her eyes.

"Come'n Row," Bill says, his bluish eyes staring deep into hers, making her cheeks blush furiously. "I didn't take you for a girl who would be so easily mesmerized by a pair of pretty eyes."

"Or fangs," Ben says, shivering.

 _Oh Bill… If you only knew…_

We leave the pub and head straight to Zonko's. I'm not quite sure why, since none of us is a big prankster, but Bill says he wants to check on the news in case he finds something to give his twin brothers for Christmas.

It is no surprise that we find Tulip in there. Ever since the bomb experience, Rowan and I have noticed that she's even a bigger prankster than Peeves, and it also made me wonder if she's able of doing these things without getting caught or losing house points.

Total opposite of me, apparently.

"Hey Tulip", I say, looking at the boxes of Dungbomb she has on her hands.

"Hey guys," she smiles. "Any luck with recovering the other key?"

"Not really," I sigh. "It doesn't actually inspire me the fact that I have to steal something from Merula."

"Oh, you don't need to steal it," she says. "You could just ask her."

I frown.

"Tulip," I say. "You're aware that your words make no sense to me."

"I mean it," she smiles. "She doesn't need it anymore. In fact, she can't even use it, given the fact that I have the other key. Better yet, _you_ have it now."

"She said she already took all she wanted from my brother's room," I say. "What did she mean with that?"

"She's lying," she says, carrying the Dungbombs to the cashier. "We used the room to study the vaults because it was full of valuable information and research, but there was nothing worth taking. At least, I don't think there was."

"Tulip, it is very important that I get into that room," I say. "I know Merula's intentions for the vaults are simply to gather more power and stuff, but I just want to find my brother."

"I know," she sighs. "Your reasons are far nobler than hers. Maybe that's why she's having trouble finding them."

"Noble or not, I really need to recover that key," I sigh.

"Maybe I could help you," she says, grabbing the bag the clerk gives her.

"Are you going to ask Merula?"

"Of course not," she smiles. "We'll do it Tulip style."

* * *

"I don't wanna get near the Shrieking Shack," Ben whines while we're heading there with Tulip and her bag full of Dungbombs.

"We must, Ben," I say. "If Merula and her cronies are there, this might be our chance."

Sure enough, there they are; looking over the fence – the abandoned haunted house in the distance – Merula, Ismelda and Barnaby. The chilly autumn air seems to be even colder around them, and I cross my arms as we get closer. We hide behind a tall rock, observing as they chat.

"So," I look at Tulip. "What's the plan?"

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," she says, pointing her wand to a big Dungbomb she took from the shopping bag.

"I didn't know we were allowed to use magic outside of school," Ben says.

"There are some limitations," Rowan says. "I suppose a simple Levitation Charm is not considered to be a problem."

"It will after today," Tulip smirks as she conducts the Dungbomb in the air, to a place with above Merula and her cronies.

Though I know what's coming and I wouldn't really wish this kind of thing on anyone, it's so tempting to watch. Tulip carelessly breaks the incantation and the Dungbomb falls from the sky, right into the space between the three friends. At first, it looks like nothing is going to happen, but then there's a small explosion and a lot of green fumes surrounding the air around it.

"It's a Dungbomb!" I hear Ismelda yelling.

"I can't breathe!" Barnaby shouts, and the two of them start running away from the revolting smoke.

It doesn't surprise me, really, that Merula instantly realizes this is a mere distraction; one of Tulip's pranks to separate her from the rest of her crew. She walks away from the smoke, looking around with a big frown upon her face, her violet eyes almost on fire.

"Get back here, you cowards!" she yells, but Ismelda and Barnaby are too far away to listen. "Tulip! I know you're behind all this! Only a psycho like you would use Dungbombs like this!"

"Guilty," she says, leaving her hiding place behind the rock, her hands lifted in the air. I follow her, but Rowan, Ben, Penny and Bill keep waiting in safety.

"What do you want?" Merula asks, sharply.

"We need the key, Merula," Tulip says, her face disposing complete confidence.

"We?" she repeats, raising her brows. "I see. You weren't good enough for me, so you had to work with Lockhart? How does it feel to know I found your brother's room before you?"

I roll my eyes; there's not much I can do.

"Why don't we quit whatever it is we're doing," I say, shrugging. "and work together? I just want to find my brother. You can have whatever you want from the next vault."

"Are you trying to trick me?" Merula places her hands on her hips. "I don't want to work with you, _Lockhart_."

I'm not sure why, but the way she says my last name makes it sound like an offense.

Perhaps it was all the Quidditch practices and the fact that I'm getting better and better at finding the Snitch, but I manage to almost predict Merula's next movement; she makes mention to grab her wand, but before she can even aim it at me, I already have my own, secure in my hand, pointing straight at her. To my surprise, Tulip also has her own wand aimed at Merula, and my friends leave their safe spot, wand in hand as well.

"Give me the key, Merula," I say, calmly.

Her lips twist in a completely disgusted face, though her eyes betray her and expose a bit of what's she's feeling: shock, fear and a touch of resentment.

"Take it," she says, removing a necklace from the the inside of her sweater; secure in the chain, for my heart's delight, is the other key. "I already got what I needed from that loser's room anyway."

"We could still use your help," Tulip says with a kind smile.

"I don't help _traitors_ ," she spits. "Watch this one, Lockhart. It's only a matter of time before she stabs you in the back."

She turns her back at us, walking angrily back to the village, her short hair flowing around her nape as she vanishes behind the trees. I risk a look at Tulip, but she doesn't look back; instead, her face is pure pain.


	39. Year 3: Chapter 11 - The Dark Boggart

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you all doing today? I am so happy that we have reached over 12.000 views! You guys are insanely amazing. Really. I'd like to send a big shout out to **James** , **Son of Whitebeard** and **KaramelKat** who left sweet reviews on my last chapter. I'm super happy you are enjoying the story and I hope you like today's chapter. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Eleven – The Dark Boggart**

On Monday evening there are still no exchange of stares between my fellow Potions professor and me. I'm not sure what's making him avoid me like this; did he think I crossed a line by seeing him in a vulnerable moment? He doesn't attempt to exchange barbs with me or take points from Ravenclaw either; but then again, he hasn't taken house points from me in a very long time. Once more, Penny's words come to my mind: _you're his favorite student._

In between adding ingredients, stirring and wand waving, in those few moments I have to wait for the potion to heat up or to change color, I study his face; there's a severity in his eyes as he gaze into my classmates' potions – a single wrinkle in between his brows – and his shoulders look quite stiff, like he's not able to relax. He doesn't come to my table to check on my potion, though he comes to Rowan's, continuing to ignore my presence.

 _Our lessons are cancelled for now._

I wonder what does that mean. Won't we have any more classes, like, _ever_? Or was it just for Halloween? And still, I'm not quite sure why I really care.

The week seems to fly like a bird of prey – fast, but silently – and I'm not sure if it is because the first Quidditch match is booked to Saturday or if it's because of the two keys weighting inside my pocket. I've written to grandpa, telling everything that has happened, but he hasn't answered yet.

It is very tempting to just enter that forsaken room, but everything I intend to do have to be carefully planned; and even on the times I have planned to do something with absolute care, things managed to go awfully wrong. I think it's wiser to wait until after the match, when everything is calmer and quieter.

"Alright, witches," Isaac calls us 'witches', because he doesn't like cursing. "It's Gryffindor _versus_ Slytherin tomorrow. We'll all be there to watch it and I want you to learn everything you can in order to defeat them. Am I clear?"

"Relax, man," Matt says, giving a tap on Isaac's arm. "Everything will be okay. Athena is a great seeker. She'll surely takes us to victory."

And I wish he didn't have this much faith in me, especially because Bill's brother – Charlie – is a magnificent seeker too.

I'm getting better and better at managing my broom; I have even attempted some successful pirouettes; to the boys' delight. It is still strange to be the only girl in the team, but I suppose their wildness and brutality may do me some good; I'll get tougher and tougher in the nick of time. I just hope I do not disappoint them on December 6th. There's still one month worth of practices, but I can already feel the twisting of my guts. Mainly because grandpa and grandma will come to watch.

Merula seems to be even angrier during lunch; I notice her glancing hateful stares at Tulip, but the redhead doesn't seem to notice. I risk a look at Barnaby and wonder if Merula will tell him to threaten Tulip too. He doesn't look so tough and scary when he's studying his chicken wing as if he's reading Shakespeare. If anything, he even looks cuter.

 _What the fuck am I thinking..._

I spent the whole free period after Professor Blood-Sucker's class and Divination writing all my essays and studying. Keeping myself focused helps me cope with all the troubled feelings inside me: my mom's passing – the scar still very fresh -, my brother's mysterious whereabouts, Merula's threats, Professor Snape's distance, the imminent Quidditch match and the fact that I find Barnaby actually good-looking. If I do not manage to put these feelings aside, it is quite possible that I will explode.

Potions class does not bring me anymore comfort; Professor Snape is still ignoring me, so I spend the entire class drowning in self-pity and troubled thoughts. It doesn't prevent me, nevertheless, to conclude my potion with perfection.

"Miss Lockhart," his voice startles me when I leave the potion flask over his table, along with my essay on fairy wing properties.

He still isn't looking at me; instead, he's sitting by his desk, grading a few papers.

"Sir?" I look at him with a frown.

"May we have a word?" I know it's not a request.

My eyes look for Rowan's and she nods at me, already knowing I'll meet her later for dinner. I wait until all students have left class, and then he lifts his wand to close the door.

"You have been missing our lessons," he says, finally rising his raven eyes at me.

"Wait," I say, confused. "What?"

"I expect perfect attendance, Miss Lockhart," he continues.

"Forgive me, Professor," I interrupt him. "But I don't understand."

"How surprising," he says, coldly. "Tell me what your shallow mind does not understand."

I blink a few times to make sure we're _actually_ having this conversation.

"You dismissed me," I say. "Until second order."

"I have certainly not pronounced such words," he says.

"Professor, I-"

"I am terribly disappointed, Miss Lockhart," he continues. "I have wrongly taken you for a serious student and a potion enthusiast, but I have obviously mistaken myself."

"You have not!" I shriek. "And I won't tolerate you speaking about me like this."

"Lower your tone, Miss Lockhart," he says. "Unless it is your desire to have house points taken from Ravenclaw."

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "There has obvious been some communication issues, Professor. Whether I have understood you correctly or not, it doesn't matter anymore. I do wish to continue our lessons and to learn as much as I can from you."

"You're not allowed a second chance, Miss Lockhart," he says, sharply. "I have given you this opportunity and you have failed me. I haven't been so wrong about you after all. You're no less than a reckless spoiled git, not so unlike your cousin and your brother."

I feel my shoulders stiffen and I swallow hard. I gaze into his eyes to make sure he's really saying those words to me; that this isn't a nightmare.

"Fine," I say, turning my back on his and firmly walking to the Great Hall, not looking back, feeling my heart flooding with another type of ache.

I wonder how many more heartaches I'll be able to handle.

* * *

Rowan is completely unaware of everything that I've been experiencing with – as she would call him herself – Professor Darkness. I haven't told her about his sorrowful moment or the chocolate frog and I certainly didn't tell her that he has cancelled our classes. Instead, I said he just wanted to discuss the next potion we'll be brewing.

Because I will certainly not give up these lessons.

He'll just have to stand me.

The bleachers are full with students rooting for Gryffindor and Slytherin; my fellow team mates and I are rooting for Gryffindor. From where I'm sitting I can see Charlie Weasley and his bright ginger hair heading to the pitch with his team. The cheering and yelling coming from the crowd eases a bit of my unsettlement and I see the two teams rising in the air. Madam Hooch blows her whistle and the game begins, Charlie already circling the pitch in the looks for the Snitch.

"Charlie is a great seeker," Andre says. He's wearing his usual purple scarf and I wonder if he ever washes it. "Will you be better?"

"I'll do my best," I say.

"If only you could say the same about your fashion notions," he smirks.

"Andre, I'm not in the mood," I say. "I do not want to sound impolite, but I don't give a damn about how I look or how I dress. Hogwarts is not my catwalk and I honestly don't care if people will judge me on my appearance alone."

"Wow," he says, raising his brows. "Take it easy."

"No, _you_ take it easy," I say firmly. "Have you nothing better to say about me than the fact that I dress badly?"

"I'm-"

"I didn't think so," I say. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to watch the game."

I feel Andre's eyes on me from time to time, but I ignore his present. Rowan is also ignoring my momentary tantrum and is watching the game with boredom. Charlie is a very good seeker, of course, but Slytherin's seeker, John King, manages to be better. By the time the game ends, every Slytherin is leaving the bleachers with absurdly big smiles and the rest of us are simply frustrated.

I walk by the tapestry covering my brother's room and think about entering it. The day is so freaking beautiful that everyone decided to enjoy the day on the school grounds. But not me. My mood is dark and gloomy like a stormy day.

"Hey," Chester says, walking to me. "What are you up to?"

 _Trouble, as usual._

"Not much," I say.

"Are you free right now?" he asks.

I nod.

"Then follow me," he smiles.

"Where?"

"Just follow me."

I blow a hair strand which is falling over my face and follow Chester to the back of the Greenhouses, where he taught me how to duel once. I am so appalled right now that if he asked me to duel him I'd surely kick his ass.

"You're probably wondering why I brought you here," he says.

 _Not really._

"You'll bedazzle me with your knowledge and wizarding skills," I say.

"Indeed," he winks. "Today I wanna teach you an advanced spell. It's called the Stunning Spell."

"Nice," I say.

"You could sound more enthusiastic about it," he rolls his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "Things have been a little hectic lately."

"I know," he says. "And I know I've been harsh on you over these years, but only because I want what's best for you."

"Spoken like a true Head Boy."

"Very well," he continues. "Wand in hand. Let's practice."

 _Stupefy_ is actually a very useful spell now that I'm thinking about it. Chester is very skilled and his teaching techniques manage to get me casting the spell in no time. There's a hint of sadness in his fierce eyes, but I think it's because he's going to miss school. This year has been full of sorrow so far.

"Now hit me with the spell," he says.

"Chester, I don't wanna hurt you," I say.

"I'll be fine. Come'n."

I take a deep breath before aiming my wand at him. I try my best to picture something I _actually_ wanna hurt.

Like Merula.

Or Ismelda.

The hand movement is quick and short, and a blue bolt emanates from my wand, hitting Chester straight on his stomach. He is pushed back with great strength, twirling in the air until he falls heavily on his arse.

"Sorry!" I say, rushing to him and offering my hand.

"You are a fast learner, Athena," he smiles, grabbing my hand to stand up.

"I have a great teacher," I grin.

"I have many things to teach you until I graduate."

"I still don't understand why you chose me."

"You will in time. Now come on. Let's grab some lunch."

It's pretty hard to eat with the two keys practically burning inside my pocket. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to wait before blasting that goddamn door and seeing what Jake has been hiding all along.

"We should investigate," Rowan says that night, carelessly braiding a lock of my hair, making it look like a messy piece of rope. "Your brother's room."

"I know," I sigh. "Before, I was eager about it. Now I'm dreading it."

"I'd take you for a mental if you weren't," she says. "We never know what could be lurking inside that room."

"I'm just... scared of what I might find in there."

"Don't worry, Athie. We'll be together. And your brother won't be dead in there. If he was, Merula and Tulip would have already found him."

"Was that supposed to be cheerful?"

"Not really. But nougat caramels are," she grabs a box of candy from her nightstand's drawer and shakes it, happily.

It is so easy to feel comfortable and elated around her. She's easygoing, smart and fun, and the best friend I could've asked for. Flashes of our first encounter come to my mind; we were just two eleven year old girls, completely unaware of what was expecting us in this castle. I look at her long luscious raven hair, shiny and perfectly brushed, and how her chocolate eyes almost look black under the dim light. She's quite a beautiful girl and I wish Bill could see that. I know we're all reckless teenagers, but she deserves a taste of happy ever after. At least, of course, until she has to marry Dev. Bill still has two more years to be around us. I wonder if someday he'll see her differently.

"I've been thinking about that thing Merula said," Rowan says, grabbing another lock of my hair and starting to braid it. My hair is pretty freaking long – almost touching my hips sort of long – so it doesn't surprise me that she takes a hell lot of time to braid it.

"Merula says a bunch of crap," I say. "Which one of them you have in mind?"

"That it's only a matter of time until Tulip stabs you in the back," she says. "What do you think she meant by that?"

"I'm not sure," I confess. "All I know is that they used to be friends and now they're not. The circumstances involving the two of them are still unknown to me."

"But do you think it's wise... to trust her?" she looks at me with a concerned face.

"I think everyone has secrets," I tell her. "Tulip will eventually tell us what happened... when she's ready."

"You think the very best of everybody," Rowan smiles at me.

"Until they prove me wrong."

* * *

I am awaken by strong shakes in my shoulders; I open my eyes and see Rowan looking at me with an indecipherable expression.

"You have to stop waking me up in the middle of the night," I whisper.

"It's six in the morning," she tells me. "Let's go check on your brother's room."

"I'll go with you," I hear Tulip's voice as she gets near my bed.

"Fine," I sigh.

I put on some warm clothes and walk with them until the Clock Tower. The castle is still asleep, cold and gloomy, so we walk there very close together, trying to warm each other up. Tulip's red hair is tied in a ponytail and she still looks a bit blue. It makes me wonder what the hell happened between Merula and her.

The corridor is completely deserted and there's a chilly wind current blowing from the night air; I stick my hands in my pockets, feeling the cold keys against my palms. Rowan pushes the tapestry aside, revealing the door and the double padlock. I look at Tulip from the corners of my eyes and she's staring at her feet, looking kinda down.

I grab both keys and unlock the padlock, handing it to Tulip.

"Keep it," she says. "In case you wanna revisit this place."

I smile at her and put the padlock and both keys in my pocket, my hand a bit shaky when I wrap my fingers around the doorknob. I do not know what to expect; I'm feeling awful butterflies in my stomach, but not good ones. They're more like moths hitting a light bulb.

There's a shrieking sound when I push the door away, revealing a very dark room. I enter it, wand in hand, followed by Rowan and Tulip.

" _Lumos_ ," I cast and my wand's light floods the messy room, allowing us to see tables, books and a lot of papers over the floor.

There's a big wooden box in the middle of the room and I see a subtle smoke coming from it. The smoke rises and twists, and I tighten the grip around my wand. Rowan's hand grapples the hem of my sweater as the smoke turns into a hooded man – wearing a jet black cape -, awfully pale, with black hair and deadly eyes. He grins at us with wickedness and I feel the hairs in my nape standing up.

"Oh my God," Tulip cries. "It's You-Know-Who!"

"It's _not_ You-Know-Who," I say, but my voice trembles. "It's just a boggart."

"How do you know who he is?" Rowan asks, but then the boggart starts approaching us, wand in hand, looking vicious and ready to strike.

"Let's get out of here," I say, pulling them out of that room, locking the door and finally resting my back against the tapestry.

My heart is pounding and my breath is panting; You-Know-Who or not, that was awfully scary. And I didn't even know how to protect us from it. For a simple boggart, he managed to completely frighten me, his eyes piercing my soul and that perverse grin making me feel like I had cursed ice inside my heart.

"Damn you, Lorcan d'Eath," I curse. "If he wasn't so busy teaching us about his _diet_ , we would be able to defend ourselves."

"Again," Rowan says, looking at Tulip with fierce eyes. Oh, no. She's playing Bad Cop again. "How did you know how You-Know-Who looks like?"

"From Merula's stories," she says. "Her parents were Death Eaters, remember? But that's not the question. Why is _your_ boggart You-Know-Who?" she looks at me.

"I don't know," I say, frowning while thinking about it.

"And how did you know how he looks like, Athena?" Rowan says.

"I don't think it matters," I tell. "If you're afraid of clowns, it will turn into a random clown. I've been having these awful feelings after Rita Skeeter wrote about my brother being involved with You-Know-Who. I think it only took shape of what I was fearing... even if I didn't know how he was like."

I start feeling my legs softening and I allow myself to crash to the floor, hugging my legs as dozens of thoughts rush through my mind, making me feel completely nauseated and overwhelmed.

For a second – for a tiny stupid second – I actually felt really close to my brother. I know he wouldn't simply be in there, like he had been hiding for the past years, but I wasn't expecting to find that boggart... and to be completely crushed by my feelings.

Rita Skeeter's words invade my mind and I find it hard to erase them. I refuse to believe my brother was involved with You-Know-Who. The Jacob I remember would try to save everyone, not endanger them. I sigh, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember my brother's face: his kind blue eyes and long blonde hair, strong features and amused smile. I hide my face in my hands, suppressing a scream.

Why do we have to have such incompetent Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers? People always say Dumbledore is a genius and stuff, but I still don't get it.

Tulip and Rowan sit next to me, both of them resting their heads on my shoulders, our hairs becoming a mixture of pale yellow, jet black and red. I close my eyes to the world, wondering if I'll be able to learn the Boggart Banishing spell by myself or if I could ask Professor Leech to finally teach us about it.

In the end, the only person to cross my mind – the only one skilled enough – is my gloomy Potions professor.


	40. Year 3: Chapter 12 - Dauntless

**Introduction:** Hello, hello! How are you guys doing? Things are pretty hectic around here; just spend the whole day analyzing histological blades of all sorts of plants and I'm completely cross-eyed right now. But anyway, I just wanna send a big shout out to **James** , **Rina** and **Andouille** , who left very sweet reviews on the last chapter. Thank you guys! And I also wanna thank all the new followers (please, leave reviews as well so I can know what you're thinking) and I hope you're liking the story. As you guys know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Twelve – Dauntless**

Maybe I am reckless, after all.

Reckless.

Imprudent.

Unwise.

Pick your word.

I am giving zero craps about whatever words I'll possibly hear or the offenses and barbs coming along. It is simpler if I just ignore it all and follow something that lies in between an instinct and an impulse.

The dungeons have become a second home to me in this castle, apart from Ravenclaw Tower. I don't mind the gloominess or the dim light or the smell of wet stone and moss. I don't feel the coldness emanating from the Potions classroom and I don't care if Professor Snape despises me. I enter the class like I belong and pretend I don't see the frown he glances at me.

"What are you doing here, Miss Lockhart?" he asks sharply.

I do not answer; instead, I sit on top of a desk, crossing my legs and resting my elbows on my knees, entwining my fingers and staring at him with compliance.

"I will not ask again," he says, standing in front of me with crossed arms and a severe expression.

I simply raise my brows and smile at him; that simple smile, with the corners of my lips turning upwards.

"I'm here for our lessons," I say. " _Professor_."

"How presumptuous of you," he hisses. "Strutting around like an arrogant princess. Leave immediately."

"I will not," I say, simply.

"You just got yourself a month of detention, Miss Lockhart," he says, giving his back at me and heading to his office.

I stand up, following him, placing my foot in between the door and the frame to prevent him from slamming it on my face. His face is completely livid.

"Get. Out. Now," he says, projecting every word.

"What is the matter with you?" I shout. "Why do you keep antagonizing me? I thought you _liked_ teaching me. I thought you had finally surpassed your unfounded prejudice about me and realized I am a great student, a fervent learner and passionate about everything you have to teach. Wasn't enough to gratuitously accuse me of being a spoiled git without even knowing who I really am? Did it ever cross your brilliant mind that I was simply respecting your space? Have you ever thought that I do not want to go back to that stupid façade where you pretend to hate me and I pretend I do not care?"

I almost don't notice I'm over seven inches shorter than he is, for I am speaking my mind with confidence, my head raised like I do not care if he'll despise me even more after my speech. His completely enraged face seems to change to a somewhat incredulous one. I notice he swallows hard and frowns his brows a little bit, that single wrinkle emerging in between them.

"If you ditch me one more time, then okay. I'll leave and forget all about it. I will not complain about unfairness, because you're clever and you probably know what you're doing. Nevertheless, I want you to know I do not want our lessons to end, the same way I feel thankful every single year for you not getting the post as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

He presses his lips together as if he's getting angry again.

"Not for the reasons you might be imagining. I do believe you're more than competent for the job, hence the fact that you have been an amazing teacher when both Professor Shelley and my hopeless aunt left the post. The reason I do not wish you get the post is because I know it is cursed and I do not wish you to leave this castle. You're far too good of a teacher to be withdrawn due to whatever curse may be ravaging the position. And though you really fancy the Dark Arts, perhaps you could relieve a bit of your desire to teach it by teaching me. I'm up to the task and I wouldn't disappoint you."

Again, his face seems to relax a bit, but his raven eyes are still gazing intensely into mine, making me feel a bit uneasy.

"Then again, if you do not wish to teach me anymore, I'll be on my way and won't disturb you any longer," I give one last look into his eyes and then sigh. "Thank you for your time, Professor. That's all I had to say."

I turn around and come back to the classroom, trying to keep my walking steady, though I'm feeling very shaky and nervous. Apparently I'm not as fierce or tough as I had anticipated. His piercing stare still manages to finish me.

"Wait," his deep voice says from inside his office, and I turn around as he walks to me. "Quite a speech, Miss Lockhart."

"Forgive me, sir," I nod.

"You do consider me to be unfair in this situation?" he asks.

"As I said, Professor, I shall not complain or accuse you of unfairness, because life is generally unfair. It doesn't mean we cannot fight for what we believe or chase our desires. If anything, it makes us stronger," I say, measuring my words. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your affairs."

"I haven't given you my answer yet, Miss Lockhart."

"I'm all ears, sir," I say, sticking my hands inside my robes' pockets, feeling the metal keys touching my skin.

He turns around and walks back to his office, and I follow him quietly. He sits by his desk, grabs an unrolled scroll of parchment and hands it to me.

"Flawless composition, Miss Lockhart," he says as I stare at the _Outstanding_ written on the corner of the page. "You are, by far, my most dedicated student."

"Thank you, sir," I say, not quite understanding where that conversation is headed.

"It took you a great deal of bravery coming here and confronting me," he continues. "Remarkable, as a matter of fact."

"I still don't comprehend why it was necessary," I say.

"You made me realize I was... perhaps overreacting... after your obvious perception of the events which unfolded on-"

"I caught you crying," I interrupted. "Not a sign of weakness. Not a reason to shove me out."

"I ascertain it now," he says. "I simply did not wish for you to see me in such... unguarded moment."

"Are you afraid I won't respect you or find you scary anymore?" I place my hands on my hips. "Why don't you pretend you still despise me and I pretend I'm still afraid of you and we move on with our lives?"

"Agreed, Miss Lockhart," he says. "Shall we begin our lessons?"

"Actually, sir," I say with a crooked smile. "I was wondering if you could teach me how to banish a boggart."

"Haven't your fanged Dark Arts teacher taught you that yet?" he raises his brows.

I shake my head.

"I have run across one on the other day," I tell him. "While the castle is being haunted by them, I reckon it would be fairly useful to learn how to defend myself from them."

"Indeed," he says, getting up. "I believe there is one hiding in the Greenhouse Four. I'll escort you there so we can practice."

"I've no words to thank you, sir."

"Just never confront me again. I find it very petulant," he flashes me a smirk.

* * *

We walk silently to the Greenhouses, the cold November air making the small line between my skirt and my stockings shiver. I cross my arms in front of my body, thinking about the boggart I'll have to face and what Professor Snape will think when he sees it turning into You-Know-Who.

The place it dark and silent and I can only hear the smooth sound of the snoring Mandrakes, suppressed by the soil covering them. I reach for my wand before we move any further and Professor Snape turns to face me.

"The spell I'll be teaching you today is pronounced _Riddikulus_ ," he says. "It's supposed to turn your boggart into something less frightening."

" _Riddikulus_ ," I repeat, tasting the spell before I finally have to cast it.

"In order for this spell to work, you have to visualize something you find... amusing. Only then your boggart will shape-shift and vanish."

I nod.

He demonstrates how to properly cast it; the correct wrist movement, the swiftness of the wand... He holds his wand with such delicacy, like it's not made of solid wood, but something way more fragile.

"Very well," he says. "The boggart is somewhere inside this Greenhouse. Let's look for it."

We walk around the long center table and the shelves around it, until I notice some suspicious mist coming out from a particularly big and sinister vase. I feel my legs shaking, even though I know it's just a boggart.

"Professor," I call him. "I think I found it."

"What are you waiting for?" he says. "Approach it and cast the spell."

"But I'm-"

"Unless your boggart shape-shifts into my person, there's nothing to be afraid of."

I risk a step forward and the mist gets thicker, rising from the vase and swirling like a gentle hurricane. I swallow hard when I see the smoke gaining its shape, turning into that same awfully pale man, vicious to the soul, staring at me with noxious eyes. The You-Know-Who/Boggart raises his wand at me and I feel the air leaving my lungs. It takes all of me to gather the courage inside me, trying to come up with something amusing, when I remember the funny looking clown my brother dressed up as for Halloween. The single thought of my beloved brother is enough to build the bravery in me.

" _Riddikulus!_ " I project but no light of spark comes out from my wand. For less than a second I think that my spell didn't work, but then the boggart turns into a funky clown, dancing in circles with a big smile on his face.

I release a giggle, feeling absurdly happy for now knowing such useful spell to get me by the rest of the school year. At least until I manage to find the vault which is causing all this trouble. The clown finally vanishes in the same smoke it came from, returning to the inside of the flower vase.

Professor Snape says nothing and when I turn to face him, from the moonlight flooded Greenhouse, I can see his face looking pale and his eyes widened, glue to the place where the boggart just disappeared.

"Sir?" I call. "Is everything okay?"

His eyes move to find mine and he seems to be a little distressed. I obviously do not know why and he clearly won't tell me, but deep inside I wish he would share his thoughts with me. He simply sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

"You did well," he says. "Let's go back to the castle."

And just like that, with no shadow of an explanation, he comes back to his gloomy demeanor, walking back to the castle with his long cape flowing around his ankles.

I walk right behind him, my hands inside my pockets, the chilly air making my hair flow behind me. He doesn't turn around to look at me or even to check if I'm following him; instead, he heads straight to the castle, walking directly to the dungeons, and I don't see him during dinner and neither on breakfast of the following day.

* * *

I don't tell Rowan about what happened and, as a matter of fact, she doesn't ask. She spent the whole time I was arguing with Professor Snape actually studying with Bill and by the look on her face, it seems that her feelings for him might soon come out of the shadows.

"He is so smart," she says, her voice bearing a dreamy tone. "You're no idea, Athie. He knows so many advanced spells..."

I smile, glancing at Bill on Gryffindor's table, carelessly talking to his friend Wyatt. He notices me looking at him and blinks at me, a handsome smile on his lips. Though I do really like him and think he's an awesome friend, deep inside I hope that he deserves Rowan. She's my best friend and I truly wish all the very best for her.

"Rowan," I change the subject a bit. "I learned how to banish a boggart."

"You did?" she looks surprised. "How incredible! You have to teach us!"

"Teach?" I gasp. "But I've just learned it..."

"Come'n," she says. "This castle is crowded with boggarts. You need to help us."

I sigh. Perhaps she's right. If the school is being ravaged by boggarts, they must have something to do with the next vault. I reckon it would be wiser to prepare my friends, for whatever it is that we'll have to face.

"I'm gonna teach you first," I say. "We just need to find a boggart."

"Oh, that will be easy enough," she grins. "Apparently there's one hiding in the Quidditch changing rooms. We could go there before your practice today."

"Alright then," I say, finishing my breakfast and heading to the Choir Room.

Professor Flitwick hands us a new song for us to practice: God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs. Apparently we'll begin practicing for our Christmas performance. He looks particularly happy today, hopping around the room, changing our formation and placing me on the front.

"Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says. "I'd like you to be the lead singer on this one."

"Me?" I gasp. "Really? I'd love to."

"Now if you please, my dear musicians, let us begin," he says, raising his baton so we'll start our practice.

I hold the parchment with the sheet music and my heart rejoices with the wizarding version of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.

" _God rest ye merry, Hippogriffs,_ " I sing happily. " _Let nothing you dismay. Remember your small fellow whose egg hatched on Christmas Day._ "

It's such a happy and fun song to sing, way nicer than the regular muggle one. I keep a smile all the time I'm singing, momentarily forgetting every single trouble and concern I might be having. I allow the lyrics to tickle my vocal chords and fill me with content. After my night facing the boggart, I'm in some desperate need for some peace.

" _And as he grows so fierce and proud we all bow to his reign,_ " we continue. " _For he's king of wood and cloud and both are his domain._ "

This moment got me thinking if it was wise to full my schedule so I wouldn't have to think; will this decision eventually backfire? Wouldn't it be wiser if I learned to deal with my feelings someway else? I think of Penny and her troubles with coping with Scarlett's death, and the issues between Tulip and Merula, and even Professor Snape and the mystery he certainly is.

I meet Rowan in the changing rooms before the practice starts. There's no need to question where the boggart is, because the sinister mist coming from one of the lockers already denounces his position. Rowan seems to be eager to learn how to banish them, biting her bottom lip in excitement. I try to transmit everything Professor Snape taught me – the wrist movement, the posture, the correct way to pronounce it – and Rowan seems to learn quite fast.

"Ready?" I ask, lifting my wand to open the locker.

"Oh yeah," she smiles, wand in hand.

The metal door opens and the mist immediately shape-shifts into Professor Flitwick. I frown to this very sight, but when he opens his mouth I begin to understand why.

"You are a disgrace to Ravenclaw!" he shouts. "You've got only T's in your exams! You are a failure and will never be the youngest teacher in this school!"

Rowan's face is pure shock and her lips start to tremble as if she was about to cry.

"It's just a boggart, Row," I say. "Banish it!"

She swallows hard and lifts her wand.

" _Riddikulus!_ " she yells and the fearful Professor Flitwick turns to a garden gnome.

It takes a while for the gnome to dissolve into mist and go back to the locker. I approach Rowan, landing my hand on her shoulder.

"Your biggest fear is failure?" I ask. "Row, you know that's _not_ gonna happen."

"I... I... don't...," she mumbles, her eyes filling with tears.

"Hey," I say, grabbing her face so she'll look at me. "You're an outstanding witch. And the ruler of your own fate."

"T-thanks, Athie," she sighs. "Sorry for this."

"Don't apologize," I say. "I'll never undervalue your feelings and you know that."

She smiles at me and decides to stay and watch the Quidditch practice. The wind in my face brings that awesome freedom sensation and makes the long French braid Penny did in my hair fly behind my back. I speed and twirl and stunt around, loving the sensation and even yearning the Quidditch match to come.

My fingers wrap around the snitch and I whirl in the air, reaching my hand to the sky, the blue immensity around me giving me a glimpse of hope that if I work hard enough, I'll finally find Jake.

And then everything will be alright again.


	41. Year 3: Chapter 13 - The Fear

**Introduction:** What's up, witches? How are you all doing? I feel like I keep saying this every single chapter, but it makes me so freaking happy that you are enjoying the story. It's a true bliss for me to write it, because somehow I feel like I'm a part of this universe (Potterhead detected? Maybe…). Anyway, I'd like to thank **Rina** , **James** , **Son of Whitebeard** and **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** for all the sweet reviews. I always look forward to read your reviews, so feel truthfully hugged for that. I hope you enjoy today's chapter and my question for you guys today is: _if you could go to any Wizarding school in the world, were would you go?_ I think I'd love to meet Castelobruxo, 'cause it would be amazing to meet all the amazing creatures from the Brazilian folklore. In fact, I'm considering writing a story about Castelobruxo _after_ I finish Hogwarts Mystery. What do you think? Would you be interested? Well, as you guys know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Thirteen – The Fear**

It is no surprise that Ben's boggart gets very confused when they finally face each other. He found one lurking inside the Artifact Room and ran away in despair. No need to say that it took some major effort from us to convince him to face it again.

"I don't wanna," he cried when we tried making him go back in there.

A ghost, a giant mushroom, a pigeon and a salamander later, he finally managed to cast the spell and lock the boggart inside a cabinet. Then he fell to his knees, breathing with difficulty, probably too overwhelmed to talk.

Then it was Penny's turn. She faced her boggart in one of the many abandoned rooms in the castle, midway between the kitchens and the Hufflepuff Common Room. No surprise that it turned into a werewolf again, but this time she was prepared. She closed her eyes – making me wonder if she was thinking of Scarlett – and when the spell hit the werewolf, it turned into a small wolf key chain. Of course, she cried again after that, but it was easier to console her with four pairs of arms embracing her.

"Guys," she said. "You're suffocating me."

It is finally Tulip's time and we decide to do it in Jacob's room, the same place she spent countless hours with Merula trying to find the Cursed Vaults. Her hands shake as she opens the padlock, reaching for her wand with a tormented face.

Coming back to this dark room brings me bad memories and I really don't wanna meet the You-Know-Who/Boggart again. So Tulip goes ahead, her wand aiming to the darkness, as we walk behind her, light emanating from our wands.

The crate shakes as we get closer and a thick smoke starts to form above it, twirling until it takes the shape of...

"Merula!" I gasp.

But it's not the Merula we all know and hate.

It's a wicked, scarier version of her, with burning purple eyes. We can't even see her pupil or the white of her eyes; it's all the same fluorescent purple flames. Her face is marked with scars and blood, her robes are ragged and stained with the same bright red blood, and her fingernails are long and pointy like claws.

"Holy shit!" Ben cries, hiding behind me.

"I was your friend, Tulip," he Boggart-Merula says with a hissy voice, sounding like a snake. "Your only friend. You _betrayed_ me."

I look at Tulip. Her face is twisted in complete affliction and misery.

"You're a liar!" the Boggart continues. "A thief! A fraud! No wonder your parents sent you away! _I hate you!_ You'll never have any friends! _Never!_ "

A discrete sniffing sound makes me aware that Tulip is trying not to cry. Her eyes are glued to the frightful version of Merula, looking shocked and hurt at the same time. Her pretty face is pure pain and she looks like an abandoned dog in the rain.

It's awful to watch.

"Cast the spell, Tulip!" I shout. "Don't listen to her! We're here with you!"

I see a single tear fall from her eye as she aims her wand and yells the spell.

" _Riddikulus!_ " her voice is shaky, but the spell does its job. The boggart twists and turns into something I'm still not sure if it's less or more frightening.

It's Merula.

But it's not.

Her hair is flawlessly brushed, with a big bright green bow atop of her head; her eyes are back to normal – uncommonly violet -, but she has a very friendly stare. She's wearing a white and pink flowery sweater and green skirt, matching her ruffled socks and flats.

"Oh my," I release, my mouth opening in shock.

"I love rainbows and unicorns and kittens and lollies," the Boggart-Merula says with a sweet voice.

 _It's freaking scary._

"Do you love rainbows and unicorns and kittens and lollies?" she continues. "Rainbows! Unicorns! Kittens! Lollies! Yay!" she hops around with an amused smile.

I can't help but to laugh; that loud and deep guffaw that makes me bend forwards, holding my stomach as I almost lose my breath. Penny and Rowan are almost rolling on the floor, laughing so much that Rowan starts to hiccup and Penny releases a loud snort.

Only Tulip and Ben aren't laughing; Tulip is still staring at the cute-looking Merula with widened eyes and Ben looks red as a tomato.

Our laughter makes the boggart turns to mist and rush through the opened door, leaving us alone in the room.

"It's true what they say," Rowan says, tears in her eyes, and she hiccups again. "Laughing _is_ the best remedy."

"Hey, Tulip," I say, touching her arm. "Is everything okay?"

She looks at me with brownish eyes.

"I'm fine."

"Why is Merula your biggest fear?" I ask and she sheds another tear.

"I...," she trembles. "I..."

"Hey," I wrap my arm around her. "It's okay."

"It's not," she sighs. "Just seize the moment to search around the room, Athena. We can talk about this later."

She sits over a closed treasure chest, hiding her face in her hands. I kneel in front of her.

"Hey," I say. "We won't do anything with you feeling like this. We're your friends, remember?"

"Yeah, but for how long?" she says, more tears coming to her eyes. "How long until I betray your trust?"

"Is that what happened?" I ask.

"It's complicated," she sighs.

"More complicated than facing that demoniac Merula?" I raise my brows and she giggles. It's a sad giggle, but a giggle nevertheless.

"It's not about her," she says. "She's not my biggest fear."

"Then why did your boggart turned into her?"

"Because of everything I did to her," she says and Penny, Ben and Rowan also crouch around her. "And everything that was done to me."

She rubs her cheeks, trying to wipe the tears, but more crystalline droplets come to replace them.

"Merula and I were friends from the minute we arrived at Hogwarts," she tells. "Her parents are in Azkaban for serving the Dark Lord. They were never around. She's used to doing whatever she wants."

I exchange looks with Rowan, wondering if it's possible a world where Merula would cry and complain about her family.

"My parents both work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," she tells. "I knew about your mum before it appeared in the news. My parents went to her funeral."

I swallow hard, trying not to remember that day.

"My whole life has been rules. When I came to Hogwarts, I was finally free to rebel," she continues. "Merula and I started in opposite places, but we ended up the same. We learned magic together, broke rules together and played tricks together."

"You were the ones responsible for Kettleburn's tantrum," Rowan affirms and Tulip nods. "I knew it!"

" _Rowan!_ ," I gasp. "It's not the time for your investigative abilities."

"And I was the one who put the stolen ingredients in your drawer, Athena," Tulip cries. "I'm so sorry... Thank God that Snape was fair enough to believe you. I'll never deserve your forgiveness."

I frown, a bunch of conflicted feelings swirling inside me. Somehow, I do not feel angry with her. I reach my hand to dry another tear that's falling down her face and she flashes me a desperate smile.

"It's okay," I say, kindly.

She sighs.

"Then we heard about the Cursed Vaults. We made it our mission to find them first," she tells us. "To show everyone just how powerful we could be."

 _How powerful two preteens can be…_

"But I betrayed her," she sobs. "I hid the clues I found from her... and used what I found behind her back. I wanted all the glory for myself. To show my awfully strict parents that something good could come from rebelling. But when she found out... we fought. And we decided that if both of us couldn't have access to this room, no one could. So I got the padlock with the two keys, took one each, and went our separate ways. I'd avoided her until we got her key back. She's right to hate me."

Her sobbing gets louder and I can feel her pain. She hides her face in her hands again, crying like a lovelorn child.

It's heartbreaking.

"She's right that I'll never have any friends," she says between sobs. "I don't deserve them. I'm not afraid of Merula. I'm afraid of betraying anyone else who tries to be my friend."

Penny rubs Tulip's back tenderly and Rowan runs her fingers through her long red hair. Only Ben does nothing; he just kneels there, looking at her with fright.

Maybe he's afraid of girls too.

"Tulip," I say. "There's no way to predict what will happen in the future."

"Actually, there is," Rowan says. "In Arithmancy we-"

"We are your friends," I continue, ignoring Rowan's snide remark. "And we trust you. Do not let your mistake define who you are."

"But what if it's stronger than me?" she asks. "Why if I can't control my impulses?"

"Your actions aren't stronger than your character," I say. "There are more important things than power, fame or proving something to someone."

"Yeah," Penny says. "Like friendship, hope and complicity."

"And fierce friends to teach you how to banish a boggart," Rowan winks at me.

"Or to show you that flying isn't scary," Ben smiles.

Tulip's eyes meet mine and I smile.

"We're here for you," I say. "You helped us get in this room. You're a part of the gang now."

She grins.

"No wonder the teachers are always talking about you, Athena," Tulip says. "About how sweet and remarkable you are."

I squint my eyes.

"Really?"

"Especially Flitwick," she says. "He absolutely adores you."

"Even though I'm a trouble maker?" I question.

"Snape is also very fond of you," Penny says. "I once heard him say you're very captivating."

" _Okay,_ " I say, feeling my cheeks burn.

"Thanks for understanding," Tulip says, finally standing up and brushing her red strands with her fingers. "You guys are the best."

"Now can I finally put my detective abilities to the test, Captain?" Rowan asks, addressing me. "I _really_ want to know what your brother kept in here."

 _Yeah._

 _Me too._

* * *

Back in Sunderland, Jake has always been quite organized and kept his bedroom fairly tidy. Even his guitar left carelessly over his bed seemed to have a correct place to be. It shocked me to see the mess of his secret room in Hogwarts, the papers and annotations spread everywhere, over tables, on the floor and glued to the walls.

I stare at the dorm's ceiling, hearing Rowan wheezing in her dreams, remembering the last time I saw Jake, when he was just fifteen years old. I can see his blondish hair and blue eyes, his sweet smile and kind eyes, and it makes me wonder how he looks like now. He's eighteen... he would have graduated... what would he be doing? Would he have a girlfriend?

I sigh in the night, thinking about the rush of his handwriting over the pieces of parchment, the many ink blots staining a few of his notes, and I think of how desperate he might have been while sitting in that grim room, studying the vaults in an anguished attempt to save the castle from its horrors.

Dumbledore said he was intrigued by my brother; does it mean he thought Jake was interesting but never bothered helping him find the vaults? I close my hands in fists under the blankets. Dumbledore might be a genius and whatever else people usually have to say about him, but a distrustful part of my heart can't seem to trust him. On several occasions he had told me to stay away from the vaults and leave it to the faculty, but things seem to only get worse. Grandpa's words about the murder that happened here haunt my sleepless mind.

 _Who died?_

 _Who was the murderer?_

 _Why wasn't the faculty able to prevent it?_

 _Are we all doomed?_

Jake's room was pure havoc and chaos and it took a great amount of time for us to gather all the papers and find something that could lead us somewhere. It was Penny who eventually found it; an encrypted message, just like the ones we had found countless times before. Rowan was able to translate the first word, which was "When", but she demanded more time to fully transcript it.

Tulip's history also can't seem to leave my mind long enough to let me sleep. I think of her backstory next to Merula, the issues with their parents and it also makes me think of my own. Of how my own dad ditched me somewhere far away from his sight and how he blamed me for my mother's death. I do not want to hate him, but my heart aches every time I think of it, and grudge fills my mouth with a bitter taste.

I roll to my side and see Tulip's bed, thinking about how she impassively helped Merula to frame me and almost got me in trouble. I think of Professor Snape and how he believed in me for the first time and wonder what led him to like me after that. I think of Rowan, Ben, Penny and Bill and how I trusted them every single time and how they never failed me. A part of my heart wants to believe Tulip is a bad person and untrustworthy, but after everything she's told me, I also wanna believe her and help her.

Why didn't the Sorting Hat place me in Hufflepuff? I seem to be overly kind and to easily trust people, just like Penny. But then again, I always seem to be reckless and stupidly brave, so I think I'd be fit for Gryffindor. And there's also the dark part of me, ambitious and unafraid, which could belong in Slytherin.

But no.

The Sorting Hat put me in Ravenclaw.

But why exactly?

Because I like to study? Because I love books? Because I have inner demons who torment me every single day?

I take a deep breath and then release the air, trying to relax. Tulip moans in her sleep and then seems to lay on her stomach. It must have been hard to grow up with the pressure of perfection and the expectations for good manners and poise. I picture in my head the eleven year old Tulip, arriving in the castle with the promise of rebellion and meeting the young Merula Snyde, another hurting and lonely soul. The image of them laughing and studying together sounds so unrealistic that it immediately shifts into something else entirely.

I'm reminded of the werewolf in the Greenhouse and I start to question myself of how my mind works, but then I remember.

I never told Professor Snape about the stolen ingredients and Penny's potion.

Did he ever notice?

For a moment I consider letting it all go and never bringing it up again, but it also feels wrong and unbefitting. Will he still consider me his favorite student after he finds out I condoned with such illicit behavior?

It takes a while for me to put my thoughts in order and finally relax enough to fall asleep. I have faith in Rowan that she'll quickly decode the message and I have faith that Tulip will not betray our trust. I have faith that Penny, Ben and Bill will be there one more time, trying to rescue the castle from danger.

The real issue is:

Do I have faith in myself?

Would Jake have faith in me?

Right before I fall into dreamland, I think of my grandpa's words.

That I must be the one to find Jacob.


	42. Year 3: Chapter 14 - Victories and Hippo

**Introduction:** Hello, my beautiful lovelies! I can't thank you guys enough for all the love and support and kind messages and enthusiasm. You are the best readers ever! I want to send a big hug to **Rina** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **James** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** and **Andouille** for the most awesome reviews. I'm usually torn in between flattered and emotional when I read your messages, because you guys are the sweetest. Honestly, thank you, thank you, thank you so much! I hope you guys enjoy today's chapter. I already wrote the prologue to my Castelobruxo story, just to introduce you to it. But it won't be a novel like this one. It will be a series of tales about different characters and folkloric creatures. Anyway, as you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **UPDATE!** I completely forgot to give the proper credits to **Geeky Dreams** {Martina} (on Amino Harry Potter) for the God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriff song. This song actually belongs to her.

 **Chapter Fourteen – Victories and Hippogriffs**

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I gasp when December 6th finally arrives and I'm having breakfast next to Rowan and my fellow Quidditch team.

"You'll do great," Isaac says in a comforting way. "We believe in you."

"Argh," I sigh, massaging my temples.

I didn't know I'd feel so bad when this fatidic day finally arrived. I could swear I was feeling confident and fierce and unstoppable and invincible and all this crap until I finally woke up and there was actually sun and blue skies and my stomach started twisting.

I already have my hair tied in a pretty braid – Penny's work of art – but I can't stop feeling awfully nauseated. Our match today is against Hufflepuff and a quick glance at their table makes me aware of their seeker – a handsome sixth year named Nate – and how marvelously jaunty he looks. His messy black hair falls carelessly over his eyes and when he notices I'm staring, he winks a remarkably grey eye at me.

"Please, God, kill me," I murmur to myself, hiding my face in my hands.

Rowan rubs my back tenderly.

"A curse-breaker like yourself shouldn't be afraid of a simple Quidditch match," she says.

"Indeed," I hear a marvelously familiar voice coming right from behind me.

"Grandpa!" I gasp, turning around to see his wise smile and his opened arms, calling for a hug.

I wrap my arms around him, feeling the tobacco scent giving me a bit of encouragement.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"Awful," I smile.

"You'll do great," he says. "Your mum was a great Quidditch player herself."

He flashes me a smile with some hidden sorrow after mentioning mum, but I hug him one more time to make things a little better.

"Where's grandma?" I ask.

"Looking for the perfect place on the bleachers," he says. "Holly is here too. She wouldn't miss it for anything in the world."

 _Holly..._

"I'll head there now," he says, giving me a smooch on the forehead. "I'd wish you good luck, but you don't need it."

The thought of Holly's flickering pointy ears help me finally calm my guts and I manage to walk to the changing rooms, trying to pretend I'm not feeling anxious as hell. I put on my uniform; the blue and bronze outfit – the name LOCKHART written on my back –, Ravenclaw's symbol on my chest, and the maroon gloves and boots. The boys seem to be thrilled when we head to the pitch and Isaac gives me a tap on my arm and flashes me a reassuring smile.

"The uniform," Andre says with a bashful smile. "It suits you. You look good."

"Thanks, man," I say. He and I haven't been talking after I almost told him to shut up on the last match.

The Silver Arrow in my hand seems to tickle my fingers and I climb it with my heart pounding hard in my chest. We stay in formation, my broom floating above my fellow boys while facing grey-eyed-Nate. Once again, he winks at me, only this time he has a smirk on his lips.

 _Goddammit._

I will not be bewitched by a pair of pretty eyes.

Down below, Madam Hooch places her hands on her hips and looks at us with severity.

"I want a nice, clean game!" she shouts and then she kicks the box of balls next to her.

The bludgers immediately bolt to the air, floating around the pitch, longing for a victim. Right after them comes the snitch; its golden spark brings a pinch of hope to my uneasy heart. Madam Hooch then grabs the quaffle, throwing it high above, and Isaac rushes to get it.

I do not stay to watch my fellow chasers rushing to score points; I lean forward and fly around the pitch, my eyes moving fast after the golden ball. Nate seems to be following me right underneath me, and from time to time he glances a smirk at me. I roll my eyes and continue my pursuit to the snitch, trying to ignore the commentator, a Hufflepuff named Daniel, who seems to be completely partial in this match.

"And there goes our breathtaking chaser, Hunter Clark, scoring again for Hufflepuff!" he says, excitedly. "Isn't he dreamy?"

"Cut it out, Sanders," I hear Professor McGonagall, who appears to be sitting right next to him.

After almost twenty minutes of game, Hufflepuff is leading the match by twenty points. I can't help but to feel extra nervous and my broom seems to feel it too, because it appears to fly a little faster.

I fly up and down, several times around the pitch, and even risk some stunts and pirouettes, making my house crowd scream in excitement. I can see my grandparents in the bleachers, next to the professors, and Holly is sitting next to them, wearing a pink sweater. A simple turn makes me fly close to them and I reach my hand to give her a high five. Right before I return to the center of the pitch, I see Professor Snape discreetly smiling at me. All of it seems to let off some steam for a while and I even manage to distract Nate long enough for me to fly away from him.

Riley scores ten points for Ravenclaw and gives me high five when he flies by me. My confidence starts to build and when Andre hits a bludger, preventing it to hit me, and I begin to feel how I should've been feeling from the very start.

I circle the pitch one more time, my heart racing with my broom, and then I finally find it – carelessly floating behind Nate's back. He doesn't seem to notice; he's looking around with focused eyes. I fly to him as fast as I can, still not reaching out my hand so he doesn't notice my intentions.

"Still looking for the snitch, blondie?" he smiles at me.

"Not anymore," I wink, reaching my hand and wrapping my fingers around the snitch. I show him the small golden ball, the biggest of smiles on my lips.

"Athena Lockhart grabs the Golden Snitch!" Daniel yells. "It's unfortunate, but Ravenclaw wins!"

"Manners, Mr. Sanders," McGonagall hisses.

Nate looks at me with wide eyes; incredibly gorgeous grey eyes. They then seem to relax and he winks at me one more time, making me blush furiously.

 _I don't know what the hell is going on with me this year and I don't really want to know._

My team mates rush in my direction, and Matt knocks me off my broom. I release a shriek as I fall right on Isaac's arms. He then throws me up in the air and grabs me again; he does it a few times and I laugh, the cold snitch warming up in my hand as I hear the applauses from the crowd.

A tremendously good feeling takes me over and I feel that I can do anything. There's finally serenity in my heart and when I have both my feet on the ground, I see my friends running in my direction. I am surrounded by arms and tightly hugged, until Isaac comes and messes my already messy hair.

"I knew you could do it!" he smiles.

"You guys were amazing too," I say.

"Nate's face was _priceless_!" Jack says in an excited high pitch voice.

"My darling!" grandma says, rushing in our directing, locking me in a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"You were amazing, dear," grandpa says with a smile. "The broom was certainly an useful present."

I feel a hand on my tight and when I look down, I see Holly looking at me with a marvelous happy smile. I grab her in my arms and hug her with tremendous happiness, spinning around, her fresh elven scent making the world get better.

"I knew you could do it!" she says.

We head to the castle after I put my normal clothes on, Rowan's arm around my shoulders, a secretive smile on her lips.

"I propose we celebrate tomorrow on Hogsmeade," she tells me. "Just the gang. With some Butterbeer."

"We'll see you home for the holidays, darling," grandma says, giving me a big kiss on my head.

I watch them walk away and Holly looks back to smile at me.

"I admit even though Hufflepuff lost, you were pretty amazing, Athena," Penny says with a smile.

"I was terrified!" Ben says. "When that bludger almost hit you... my heart almost stopped!"

"Oh, Benny, don't be such a drama queen," Bill says. "A few broken ribs never killed anyone."

" _Actually_ , if the broken rib pierces your lungs and-"

"Butterbeer!" Bill yells happily, ignoring Ben's whining.

* * *

The Three Broomsticks is swarming with students talking about yesterday's game, though Nate and his fellow team seem to be fairly quiet in a table far from ours.

"To Athena!" Rowan says, raising her mug full of Butterbeer.

"To Athena!" my friends shout and we take long gulps of the sweet delicious beverage.

From the other side of the pub, Nate flashes me a smirk.

"Why does he keep looking at me like that?" I ask.

"Who?" Bill turns around to see. "Nate? Oh, he's a dangler. He does that all the time."

I roll my eyes.

"He was probably trying to dazzle you, so you would be distracted and miss the snitch." Penny suggests.

"Didn't wo-ork!" Rowan says loudly, as if the words have a lot of syllables. "Anyway. We have another thing to celebrate today."

We all look at her with curiosity.

"I am or am I not the greatest witch in the world?" she says with a cocky smile.

"Rowan," I say. "What did you do?"

"Did you poison Ismelda?" Bill smirks.

"What? No!" she says with a thoughtful expression. "Though it wouldn't be a bad idea... but no. I translated the code."

"You did?" I raise my brows, surprised. "And what does it say?"

She sticks her hand in her pocket and grabs a piece of parchment.

"When someone first tampered with the vault, there were more boggarts in the library than anywhere. The vault must be there. There are thousands of shelves in the library. Where could the entrance be?" she reads.

"In the library?" I gasp. "How are we supposed to find a vault in there? It's huge and Madam Pince will have those hawk eyes on us."

"Oh, dear Athie," Rowan giggles. "You belittle my library benefits. Madam Pince simply _adores_ me."

"Still not sure she'll allow us to go wandering around the place, looking for potential threat," I say.

"Worst case scenario, I can always play a prank in there," Tulip smirks.

"And damage those precious books?" Rowan looks outraged. "I'll not permit it."

"So, when do we start?" Bill interrupts, flashing us a big smile, demonstrating his usual excitement for dangerous activities.

We have two weeks to search the library before going back home for the holidays. It is very tempting to stay in school to have some extra searching time, but my grandparents would never allow me to be away from home during Christmas. And I'm not even sure I'd do it; I really wanna discuss the happenings with grandpa.

In order to not look so suspicious, we take turns to look around the library; not having much free time myself, I only have three hours per week to look behind books, under the shelves, in dark corners... Madam Pince doesn't seem to notice, for every time she approaches me, a grab a random book and pretend to read something. I guess it's no need to say that my heart races every time it happens.

Something inside me seems to awaken every time I enter the library; it's like a flame burning inside my soul and I feel incredibly closer to Jake. I can almost hear his voice when I open the books.

"I found nothing," Rowan says on Saturday during breakfast and Tulip nods in agreement.

"The library is _ginormous_!" I sigh. "How will we find anything in there?"

"It's a shame we can't use _Accio-Whatever-It-Is-We're-Looking-For_ ," Tulip says.

It's hard to spend time wandering around the shelves on the next week, when we're taking our exams. The only times I actually go to the library is to study a bit more and I start to feel guilty for not looking harder for Jake.

Professor Bloodstream's test is fairly easy; mainly consisting about spotting the differences between vampires, dhampirs and humans. I find it hard to contain my sassiness, so I write:

 _With rare exceptions – as in porphyria and cannibalism – humans do not have a taste for blood._

I finish my sentence, wondering if he'll find it too petulant.

Next to me, Rowan seems to writing excitedly and I consider adding "supernatural attractiveness" to my essay. It's a bit hard to write in this gloomy room, especially with our dhampir professor strutting around the class, looking at our answers from over our shoulders. It makes me wonder if he's actually checking on our exams or analyzing our necks. He sure has a very magnetic aura, but I shall not be dazzled by a half-vampire teacher who's thirsty for blood.

Time seems to be passing terribly fast and when I realize, Friday brings a snowy day and the scent of the pines trees in the Great Hall. I sit with Rowan and Tulip for our last breakfast before the holidays, enjoying some delicious French toasts and a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

"I'll search the library while you're away," Tulip says, her expression lying in between sadness and relief.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I won't be going home for the holidays," she sighs. "My parents told me to stay here. They'll be traveling."

"Oh, Tulip," I start, but she shrugs.

"It's for the best," she says. "I'll have more time to prepare my pranks."

"Why don't you spend the holidays with me?" I suggest. "I'm sure my grandparents won't mind."

"No, it's okay," she smiles. "I need some alone time."

"Are you sure?" I ask, worried.

She nods and Rowan looks at me with concern.

A ticking sound coming from the teacher's table makes everyone turn heads.

"Before you go back home for a delightful end of year, Professor Flitwick and the Frog Choir have a special performance for us today," Professor Dumbledore says with a smile.

I follow my choir mates to our designed place and I take my position in the center. Professor Flitwick winks at me as he raises his baton.

" _God rest ye merry, Hippogriffs_ ," I sing aloud, a bust of joy in my heart. " _Let nothing you dismay. Remember your small fellow whose egg hatched on Christmas day. And whether he'd survive the night, nobody could yet say. Oh tidings of comfort and joy... comfort and joy... oh tidings of comfort and joy_ ".

The delicacy of this song makes smiles appear on my friends' lips. I see Bill smiling at us while just moving his lips, singing in silence.

" _The biting cold of winter could not take his pride away. He fought the ice and frost and lived to see another day. He held his head up high and told the world he's here to stay. Oh tidings of comfort and joy... comfort and joy... oh tidings of comfort and joy_ ".

Rowan has both her arms up in the air, moving them from side to side, Tulip accompanying her.

" _And soon he will learn how to fly and take his rightful place... among the creatures of the sky that soar with strength and grace. To survey with his watchful eye all his gaze can embrace. Oh tidings of comfort and joy... comfort and joy... oh tidings of comfort and joy_ ".

From Hufflepuff's table, I see Penny's rosy cheeks and sweet smile, and right across from her I cross eyes with Nate. Once again, he winks at me.

" _And as he grows so fierce and proud, we all bow to his reign. For he's the king of wood and cloud and both are his domain. By man or beast he's never cowed; his enemies he's slain. Oh tidings of comfort and joy... comfort and joy... oh tidings of comfort and joy_ ".

My eyes search Ben's and he's looking at me with the usual sweet smile. I start to feel my heart filling with happiness. I came to Hogwarts thinking I'd have nothing and no one, but even though Jake still haunts me, I've received the best present ever: true and loyal friends.

" _And should you even cross his path, be careful what you say. For he may take offense and your trespassing you shall pay. But if you give him due respect, your trust he won't betray. Oh tidings of comfort and joy... comfort and joy... oh tidings of comfort and joy_ ".

We finish the song followed by the applauses of the whole school. Professor Flitwick smiles at us with a complete rejoiced face. Before I return to Ravenclaw's table, I glance at the teacher's table, my eyes meeting Professor Snape's. He doesn't smile or say anything; he simply nods and that's enough for me.

It's hard to go to the platform and say goodbye to Tulip, with the promise that she'll write if anything happens. Her red hair flows in the winter wind and she runs to give me one last hug before I go away.

"Thanks for trusting me, Athena," she says with a smile and goes back to the castle.

The sweetness of those words feeds the fire in my soul and I enter the train with the promise of a good 1987. I'm still a bit afraid of the passing of the time; hence the fact that it rushed from 84 to 87 without asking for permission. Will I be able to find my brother before I graduate? I rest my head against the window and look to the snowy landscapes, the frozen rivers which will meander when spring comes back, thinking of my brother.

Ben and Penny are sharing the cabin with Rowan and I, eating a bunch of candy and discussing our likely adventures after the holidays. A movement outside the cabin makes me aware that Merula is staring at us. She glances me a violet stare and a malevolent smirk and goes away.

"She's still mad that we stole Tulip from her," Rowan says.

"Well, we didn't actually _steal_ Tulip," Penny shrugs. "We're simply better and less toxic friends than Merula."

"But don't forget Tulip was the one to betray her," Rowan remembers.

"Yeah, but Tulip is clearly regretful," I say. "I don't think she'll be untrustworthy."

"I guess she already learned her lesson," Penny says.

Ben, on the other side, says nothing. He's still staring at the cabin's window with blushed cheeks.

"What's wrong with you?" Rowan asks.

"Huh?" he says, confused, looking at her. "Nothing... Nothing really."

"Benny, there's no need to be afraid of Merula," Rowan giggles.

"I'm... I'm not..." he trembles. "I was just remembering the boggart."

"Pretty scary seeing Merula looking actually kind and happy...," Penny says.

"I wish I could have taken a picture of that," I smile. "It was weird, but she actually looked pretty without all the darkness and demoniac face."

"Yeah...," Ben murmurs. "Pretty..."

Penny hands me a butterscotch filled chocolate and I eat it happily, thinking about everything that is to come. I wish Bill could share this moment with us, but he's on the Prefects' wagon. It doesn't take long, though, for his shiny ginger hair and sparkling eyes show up on the window. He opens the door with a smile and reaches to grab a chocolate from the box over Rowan's lap. No need to say she blushes furiously after that.

"So," he smirks at us, unwrapping the chocolate and having a bite from it. "Anxious for all the adventures we'll have next year?"

He frowns at Ben, who's still awfully quiet, staring at a candy cane on his hands. Bill molds the chocolate wrapping in a small ball and throws it on Ben's head.

"Hey," he says. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing...," Ben says, bashful.

"Anyway," Bill smiles. "Don't worry, Athena," he smiles at me. "We'll find it when we come back."

I smile at him and watch him go back to his wagon. My eyes go back to the wintery scenario and I grin when the snow stars to fall. Though it's cold outside, there's a burning flame inside my heart.

That everything, somehow, will be alright.


	43. Year 3: Chapter 15 - Woeful Truth

**Introduction:** Hello, everyone! How are you guys doing? I wanna thank you all so much for the 14.000 views! You are awesome! I also wanna thank **James** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **Son of Whitebeard** and **Rina** for the sweet reviews on my last chapter. Even though I said I'd wait to write the story about Castelobruxo only after I had finished this one, I had a spark of inspiration during the weekend and wrote a freaking huge tale about a famous Brazilian folkloric story. The chapter has already been posted and I hope you like it. Since the tales are independent from each other, it will take a while for me to post another one. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy today's chapter. I also updated the previous chapter to add the proper credits to Martina, from Amino Harry Potter, to the lyrics of the Christmas song. Thank you, James, for indirectly reminding me of that. As you guys already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Fifteen – Woeful Truth**

I didn't expect there to be so much seriousness in the atmosphere when I came back from Hogwarts. My grandparents picked me up on the station and we went back to snowy Lockhart Gardens, looking beautifully decorated and smelling of gingerbread and peppermint tea. Holly greeted us with a sweet smile, wearing her housekeeper outfit, but with long sleeves for the winter.

The first Saturday was spent mainly in grandpa's office. He lit his pipe, exhaling the vanilla scented spirals, a contemplative expression upon his face. I told him everything that happened during the first months of my third year. He listened carefully, releasing arches of smoke, his blue eyes flickering under the candle lights.

"Inside the library, you said," he says, pensive. "And no clue was found?"

"Not yet," I sigh. "But we're still looking."

"And that Snyde girl," he says. "Still causing much trouble?"

"Not much," I say. "But she found herself a couple of cronies to do her dirty work."

"Be careful, darling," he raises his brows at me. "How are your defensive spells?"

"I think I've got it," I smile at him. "I probably study and train harder than Merula and her henchmen."

"I'm sure you do," he smiles as someone knocks on the door. "Come in."

The door opens to reveal a happy Holly, carrying a tray with tea and decorated sugar cookies. She leaves the tray over grandpa's desk and smiles at me, leaving us alone again. Grandpa grabs a cookie, dips it in his tea and takes a bite. He then smiles, rejoiced.

"You and Holly sure make this house a lot better," he says.

"How are you and grandma doing?" I ask, a bit apprehensive.

"Getting better," he shrugs. "Can't believe it's been five months already."

I grab a cookie and stare at the white icing with red and green sugar. It's hard not to think about my mum or talk about her without having tears coming to my eyes. It will hurt forever and there won't be a way of finding her, like I plan on doing with my brother. She's gone and all there's left are the memories.

Grandpa and I spend a few minutes in complete silence, each one of us lost in the deepness of our own thoughts. He then grabs his cup of tea and takes a sip.

"Hmmm," he smiles. "Peppermint."

"Merula has a friend who likes mint," I remember. "His name is Barnaby Lee."

Grandpa frowns.

"I hope he's not from the Lee couple who used to be Death Eaters," he says.

I raise my eyebrows.

"What's with these Slytherins and their affiliations to You-Know-Who?" I gasp.

"Well, not all Slytherins have a tendency for evil," he says, scratching his chin. "I had a few classmates who became Death Eaters and wasn't Slytherins. Gerard Highmore, for example, was a Hufflepuff. He ended up dying in the war. Too kind to kill, I guess."

He looks thoughtfully to the flickering flame of the blue candle over his desk and grabs another cookie.

"Lilith Gnash was in Ravenclaw," he tells me. "I had feelings for her back in the day. Thank Merlin I met your grandma."

I smile.

"How did you meet?" I ask, in the need for some change of tune.

He blushes and smiles at me.

"We had Herbology together," he says with a bashful smile. "It was after I discovered Lilith's inclinations for evil. We were in our fifth year. I got bit by a fanged geranium and your grandma kindly offered to accompany me to the Hospital Wing," he smiles at bit more. "She was always there, you know. A bit out of focus, because she didn't like dragging attention. We started talking more after that day. She was so kind and sweet and talented... I was the one who convinced her to join the Quidditch team... and then she got hurt and blamed it on me," he giggles. "Of course it was all pretend. She just wanted to see me chasing her around the castle."

I giggle, wondering why I had never asked him about this story before. I wonder how much more there is that I don't know.

"Tell me about your first kiss," I ask, taking a sip from my tea.

Grandpa flushes like a bright strawberry.

"Hmmm," he says, hesitant. "Aren't you a little young for this kind of story?"

"I'm thirteen!" I protest. "Not a toddler."

"Yes. Right. Well," he stutters. "We had a lot of time to develop our friendship and feelings since the fanged geranium episode. I think we were on our seventh year... it's not a whimsical story, actually."

"Doesn't matter," I smile.

"I was a bit... shy... back then," he says, as if he isn't anymore. "It was Valentine's Day... I couldn't build the courage to tell her how I felt... so I sent her an anonymous card. Of course she knew it was me. My stupid seventeen year old self didn't think she'd recognize my handwriting. And then she came to confront me. Said she would only go out of with me if I admitted, face to face, that I liked her. Said she wouldn't date someone who couldn't come clean."

"That's a bit harsh," I say.

"But she was right," he says. "I got so nervous that I couldn't say a word. She went away completely mad at me. So I spent the night finding the courage to tell her. On the other day, I conjured a huge flower bouquet and chased her around the castle, yelling to whoever wanted to hear how much in love I was with her."

"And did it work?" I gasp.

"Obviously, Athena!" he says. "She's your grandma, isn't she?" he smiles. "I guess she's responsible for making me a braver man."

We finish our tea and cookies in silence and I notice he's lost in his memories, his blue eyes sparkling under the flickering candle lights. Grandma doesn't seem to know we've been talking about her when we join her for dinner, but grandpa gives her a smooch on the tip of her nose and flashes her a smile. I look at them with mirth in my heart, hoping I'll find a love like this someday.

They're still very young; only fifty seven. And by my calculations, Aunt Anise was born only a year after they started dating. I scratch my chin while eating the pasta, making a mental note to ask grandpa about this story.

Holly seems to be very satisfied with her dinner; she made a delicious spaghetti with vegetables and is now eating it with a rejoiced expression. She flashes her jade eyes at me and I smile, taking a bite from my carrot. It's her second Christmas with us and I feel incredibly grateful for this.

When I lay my head to sleep, I can only think of Tulip, alone in the castle, wandering around the bookshelves. I hope she doesn't come across another boggart, but if she does, she now can defend herself from them. Thankfully, she doesn't show up in my dreams; in fact, I end up having some very good dreams, where I'm flying over the Forbidden Forest, feeling completely happy.

* * *

Inspired by my dream, I spend the Sunday morning flying over the property, making some bold loops and pirouettes over the breaking waves. It feels good to be only by myself, enjoying the chilly sea breeze. There's snow over the sand and the water is probably freezing cold, which makes it more enjoyable to be courageously flying over it.

By the time I return to the house, my hair is wildly messy and I have to take a hot shower to warm me up and remove the smell of sea from my blonde locks. I put on some winter clothes and a long jacket and accompany my grandparents to Diagon Alley for some Christmas shopping. Holly comes with us, of course, and I walk holding her gloved hand as she looks from side to side with enchanted eyes. People sometimes look at us like we're crazy for treating a house elf as a family member, but I simply ignore them.

I carefully choose all the Christmas presents, using a part the non-used allowance I've been saving for the past years. I have a well-planned list with me, with everything I'm going to buy:

.

Rowan – Candy from Sugarplum's

Penny – Subtle Potions, by Sabrina Sharpe

Ben – A red t-shirt (which I plan on designing with a lion and adding a spell to spark Brave Lion in golden shimmer)

Bill – Mighty Madam Rakepick, a biography by Olga Ash

Tulip – Unbreakable Vows and Other Stories about Friendship, by Mave Craft

Holly – The Wizarding Guide to British Cakes, by Gordon Hallewell

Grandma – Mother pearl knitting needles

Grandpa – Peppermint scented tobacco

.

When everything is wrapped and secure inside the shopping bags, we sit at Rosa Lee Teabag and order some jasmine tea and some custard tarts.

"I must learn how to make these," she says, rejoicing with custard all over her face.

I smirk. I'm glad she'll like her Christmas gift, for I know there's a special recipe for this tart in the book. I hand her a napkin and she smiles at me before cleaning her face. As usual, the tips of her ears shake a bit.

A.D.O.R.A.B.L.E.

"Grandma," I say, taking a sip from my delicious hot tea. "How old were you when you had Aunt Anise?"

She almost chokes with her tea. Her amber eyes look at me, completely startled, and she blushes a bit.

"I was... hmmm... eighteen..." she says. "Do not recommend, though."

She looks at me with severity.

No, grandma. I don't intend on getting pregnant at eighteen.

"Were you already married?" I ask.

"What kind of question is that?" she blushes a bit more. "Of course we were."

I look at grandpa and he discretely shakes his head in a subtle "no".

I giggle.

We go back home in silence and place a few of the presented under the sparkling tree and the others inside my trunk, because Twilight won't be able to deliver them all. He looks at me from the window and drops a dead mouse on the floor. I sigh and give him a treat; his yellow eyes blink at me and I run the back of my hand over his soft feathers.

Holly makes a delicious roast dinner and grandma makes a lot of questions about Quidditch, probably happy to avoid her pregnancy subject. We eat and talk and laugh until I go back to my bedroom, staring at the lilies painting on the wall, wondering how long will it still take for me to have my brother back.

* * *

Monday brings an unexpected guest. He comes in the morning, while I'm having breakfast with my grandparents and Holly, wearing an oversized suit and a bright yellow tie.

"Gunnar Keeling," he says, shaking my grandpa's hand. "You must be Sebastian and Agatha Lockhart."

"Indeed," grandma says with a frown. "Why, if I may ask, do we take the pleasure of your company?"

"I'm representing your daughter's interests," he says. "Mrs. Annette Lockhart made specific that you should be the ones to read her will first."

Grandpa and grandma exchange concerned stares.

"Come in, please," grandpa says, leading Mr. Keeling to his office.

They spend a long time in there and I remain in the kitchen, watching Holly baking a pie, wondering what might be going on inside those locked doors.

"Athena, darling," grandma calls from the kitchen door. "Mr. Keeling want to have a word with you."

"With me?" I raise my brows, following her to my grandpa's office.

"Miss Athena," Mr. Keeling says, offering the hand for me to shake. "Nice to meet you."

"My pleasure, sir," I say, still very confused.

"Your mother have made it very clear about the appropriate timing for the reading of her will and she also left you this, I must remark, unread letter," he hands me an envelope with unbroken seal. "Due to your brother's still unknown whereabouts, your mother's Gringotts' safe key is to become your possession," he also hands me a golden key. "Sign here, please."

I grab a quill from my grandpa's desk and dip it in the ink. My eyes run over the words of the paper he's handing me.

 _In case of death, missing or indifference of the eldest child, Mr. Jacob Lockhart, the inheritance – safe number 523 – immediately is transferred to the youngest child, Miss Athena Lockhart. The sum evaluated is of fifty seven thousand eight hundred and forty six galleons._

"It was, nevertheless, her desire that you two would share this sum," Mr. Keeling raises his brows. "In case your brother returns-"

"I'll definitely share it with him," I squint my eyes at him.

"It is also stated that the Sunderland house is to be sold and the value shared between you, your brother and your father," he continues. "However, Mr. Hodges intends on buying your share."

"Whatever," I sigh.

"I will come back with more information once we have the proper agreement with your father," he smiles at me. "Thank you for your time, Miss Lockhart."

I sink on the armchair across from grandpa's desk, feeling tears coming to my eyes and the unread letter almost burning my fingers. Grandma takes Mr. Keeling to the door and she doesn't come back to the office. I'm left alone with grandpa, who seems to be very pensive and sorrowful.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," he says, at last. "Oh, Holly dear, I'm glad you're here."

I turn to see Holly standing by the door, her jade eyes looking extremely concerned.

"Could you bring Athena some calming tea, please?" he asks.

"Right away, sir," she says, rushing back to the kitchen.

"What did you spend so much time talking about?" I ask him.

"Your custody, mainly," he sighs. "Your father is not willing to let us have it. It is still his wish that you'll return to Sunderland."

"So he can ditch me to Plymouth again," I feel a warm tear coming down my cheek and I dry her with the back of my hand.

"That why we won't allow it," he says. "Mr. Keeling was representing your mum's best interests and will work with our lawyer, Angelique Woods, to give us your full custody. Since Jacob is now of age, there's no need to drag him into this mess."

"Assuming he'll ever come back," I sob.

"He will," he says, firmly. "You will find him, darling. Don't lose hope."

I sigh. Holly comes back with some lemon balm tea and the scent is enough to make me feel better.

"Thanks, Holly," I say, sadly.

"I'll be around if you need me," she says, rubbing my arm tenderly, and then goes back to the kitchen.

I take a sip from the hot tea and then place it over the desk. My mum's letter seems heavy between my hands and I can't help but to fear what's inside it.

"There's no ghoul or boggart in there, darling," grandpa says.

"I know," I sigh again, cracking open the seal and taking a single sheet of parchment from the envelope. I unfold it, my mom's handwriting making me cry even more.

 _My loving daughter,_

 _I hope you don't hold it against me for being too weak to continue. There's only so much a heart can take and I have found my limit. Please, be stronger than me and find your courage to continue, even when there's no hope left. Trust your friends and your magic and you'll find your light, my sweetie._

 _Do not blame your brother, for he's not the reason I gave up. His disappearance has been a big burden and a terrible pain, but I thought I could always rely on your father, the love of my life, to help me keep my hope burning alive._

 _We've met, as you already know, in Hogwarts when we were both sorted into Gryffindor. He has always been a loyal friend and a dedicated husband... until now. I wish you never have to feel the pain of being betrayed by your best friend. After Jake went missing, he helped me look for him. We looked for many months until we decided to go back home. He watched me hurting and found peace in someone else's arms. When he got tired of watching me suffer, he sent me to a muggle psychiatric facility so I could be cured of my torments. When the doctors realized I had nothing but depression, they sent me back home, where I found your dad with another woman. I was never able to find out who she was, for she apparated instantly._

 _I found myself lost, buried in despair for not having Jake and lovelorn after Chris' obvious infidelity. He didn't even try to deny it; he said I was merely a shadow of what his wife had been and he couldn't take it anymore. I find the strength to laugh while writing this, because it sounds too absurd._

 _Despite of all these unfortunate events, I do not wish you to hate your father. I simply don't want to leave you without answers, because I'm sure you have a lot of questions right now. Do not think, not even for a slightest second, that I don't love you or that I gave up on you. My choice was my weak longing for peace. Know I'll be always watching over you, seeing you become the wise witch you are to be. Please, keep me in your memories and leave out all the rest._

 _All my loving,_

 _Your mother._

Teardrops fall over the parchment, thankfully not staining any word. Grandpa looks at me with kindness, his face rested on his hand. I dry my tears and hand him the letter.

"I think you ought to know," I say, simply, and leave his office, heading straight to my bedroom.

It takes a few seconds before he starts screaming in complete fury.

"AGATHA!" he yells and from my opened door I can hear them talking.

"That son of a bitch!" my grandmother hisses. "Oh, we're going to use it. We're gonna use this letter and gain Athena's custody!"

I hear their frantic conversation getting lower as they walk further away from my room. I roll to lay on my stomach, wondering what's left to haunt me. What would Jake say if he was here? Would he forgive our father?

I think of my dad and how he said it was our fault that mum had died... and how he sent me away because of that... and how he had lost the love of his life because of us...

 _Liar!_

My thoughts scream as I bury my face in the pillow, trying to suppress my tears. It's useless, because they flood the soft fabric and burn my eyes, making my heart ache so much that I'm not sure how I'm able to take it.

 _Be stronger than me._

Mum's words rush through my mind and I find the strength to take a few deep breaths, calming my heart, but not stopping my tears. I do not want to bury myself in self-pity, anger, hate or used-to-bes. I don't wish to become bitter or sorrowful or to die of a broken heart.

I sit on my bed, drying my tears with my hands, and stare at Princess Leia's poster.

 _May the force be with you._

Yes.

It will for sure.


	44. Year 3: Chapter 16 - Mysterious Nightmar

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you all doing today? It makes me incredibly happy to read all the sweet reviews you send me. It's flattering and the messages make me very emotional with every word. Thank you so, so much! I want to send a bug to **10868lets go** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** and **Rina** for the reviews on my last chapter. And I also wanna thank **Soelle** , **Popperseed** , **Eurus Hawke** , **nikita1307** , **foxchick1** and **marshall25** who started following the story on August. I hope you enjoy today's chapter. Where are you at the game right now? I'm honestly not sure if you'll like Athena's fourth year, because I'm changing a lot of things while still trying to stay _somewhat_ true to the game. It's very hard, because Athena wouldn't do a lot of things that my MC does. Anyway, let's quit with the gibberish and head to the chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Sixteen – Mysterious Nightmares**

The shimmering Christmas tree throws colorful sparks over the presents underneath it, beautifully wrapped in red, white, green and gold. We sit around it to open them, drinking Earl Grey and eating gingerbread cookies. Grandma looks dashing with her long honey colored hair falling in curls over her shoulders, wearing dark red robes. No wonder grandpa fell in love with her; she's incredibly beautiful even though she's approaching sixty.

"Open this one first, darling," she says, handing me a big heavy box.

"Wow!" I say, ripping the paper and seeing a beautiful wooden box with materials for broom maintenance. "Amazing! Thank you!"

"Take good care of your broom and we're sure the Quidditch Cup will be Ravenclaw's," grandpa winks.

Grandma seems to really like the new knitting needles, instantly sitting on her favorite armchair to start using them while we open the rest of the presents. Grandpa also seems to like his peppermint scented tobacco, saying it smells better than the vanilla one. He lights his pipe and releases some delicious smelling hoops in the air.

"Open mine, Holly," I say, handing her the big package, wrapped in white and golden.

"For me?" she widens her eyes, her ears trembling.

I nod.

She opens the package with care, her eyes sparkling when she sees the big book about wizarding British cakes. Her fingers quickly look for the summary, where she sees a bunch of amazing cake recipes, her eyes longing on the Enchanted Custard Tart.

"T-thank you," she says, wrapping her arms around me for a hug. "Now open mine."

"Holly," I say, smiling when he hands me a beautiful looking box. "You didn't have to get me anything."

I get completely speechless when I see the beautiful necklace she got me. It has a long golden chain with an absolutely gorgeous pendant: an interesting golden frame, holding a brown and yellow sphere, looking like a marble.

"It's tiger's eye," she says. "Meant for protection."

"Holly... I'm..."

My eyes start to water when I pull her for another hug. She helps me put the necklace and it immediately starts to make me feel better. Not only I have my mum as my guardian angel, I also have two loving grandparents, a bunch of trustful friends, and Holly.

Her jade eyes blink at me and I notice my grandparents are looking at us with emotional eyes. Probably thinking that rescuing Holly from the Clements was the best thing they have ever done.

And I agree.

* * *

Scrofungulus.

That's what Aunt Anise claims prevented her from coming back to Hogwarts.

She's wearing a heavy coat of makeup to cover the scars.

I wish I could feel sorry for her.

But I don't.

It doesn't prevent her from wearing a fussy outfit, though, matching Gil's fuchsia robes.

"Fuchsia, not pink", he says happily to Ambrosia.

I rub my temples, wondering how long will it take for dinner to be served. All my chattering relatives are talking in the living room, drinking sherry and nibbling some delicious appetizers Holly made, but it sounds a bit too crowded for me. So I walk to the kitchen, wearing a way less whimsical outfit than Gil – just a midnight blue velvet dress – and watch Holly cooking.

She raises her hands in the air, bringing spices and herbs to the boiling casserole, humming a sweet song. An enchanted knife is cutting some garlic and there's a huge turkey in the oven, smelling absolutely delicious.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask. "I'm not allowed to use magic outside of school, but I could do it the other way."

She flashes me a smile.

"I just need to add some lemon slices to that punch," she says. "I would do it magically, but if you need something to keep you busy..." she winks at me.

I grab a knife and start slicing some lemons, adding them to the sparkling red punch. It is enough to keep my mind in place and away from shallow conversations.

We all sit together to eat and Gil immediately starts telling us about his bestselling book, Wandering with Werewolves, and how he's getting thousands of fan letters.

"And Lady Wimborne said I should apply for Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile," he flashes us a perfectly white smile. "She said I'd definetely win."

"Of course you would, Gillykins!" Aunt Anise says, tapping him happily on the shoulder. "You have the most dazzling smile in the entire world!"

I roll my eyes, stuffing my mouth with turkey and mashed potatoes.

"Mother," Aunt Anise asks while taking a sip of her glass of wine. "Why is it sitting with us?"

She indicates Holly, who's sitting next to me, distractedly nibbling a steamed carrot. I look at Aunt Anise with angry eyes, but she doesn't seem to notice.

" _She_ ," grandma corrects. "It's a part of the family."

"Oh, mother," Aunt Anise sighs. "Frankly. I'm starting to think you're getting senile."

My blood begins to boil and I stare at her with so much anger that her glass explodes in her hand.

"Merlin's beard!" she gasps, pieces of glass flickering in her untouched plate.

I deviate my stare as look at Holly, absentmindedly taking big gulps of her lemonade. I must start controlling my temper whenever Aunt Anise is around. I wonder the commotion it would be if I, I don't know, made her swell like a balloon or something.

"We know it was you," Acacia tells me, followed by her twin sister, Acadia, later that night, when I'm standing by the window watching the snow fall. "Don't worry. We won't tell."

"We did the same with Gil once," Acadia laughs. "When we were kids. He was bragging nonstop about how awesome he was-"

"And how ugly we were-"

"That we made his tongue swell and he couldn't speak at all."

They giggle, their blonde curls shaking as they laugh, and I smile, still feeling a bit cranky. But they don't seem to notice my unfriendly expression, for they sit next to me by the window seat.

"So," Acadia says. "Do you have a boyfriend, Athena?"

I blink my eyes at them.

"No."

"Girlfriend?" Acacia looks shocked. "I didn't know you were so... modern."

"No."

I appreciate the fact that they're trying to make a conversation, but I'm simply not in the mood.

"Excuse me," I say, leaving the living room and heading to the kitchen, serving myself a cup of tea.

"Can I get you anything?" Holly asks, entering the kitchen.

"Oh," I say, surprised. "I'm good. Thanks, Holly."

"I heard that, you know," she blinks her eyes at me. "What your aunt said. Please, don't be upset with her. Not everyone will share our beliefs... we must accept people for what they are."

"Even when they're wrong?" I ask her, sadly.

"Who said she's wrong?" she asks me.

"Isn't she?" I question. "Calling you 'it', being unkind and-"

"Most witches and wizards were taught that we are inferior," she holds my hand in between hers. "The same thing with goblins, centaurs and a bunch of other magical creatures. Do not blame them for that. One day they'll understand that hate only generates more hate."

"How come you are so wise, Holly?" I smile.

She giggles; it's a marvelous sound, like jingling bells.

"You'll be too," she says.

The rest of the night seems to be way less angry after Holly's piece of wisdom. I even sit with my cousins – Gil not included – and they tell me everything about their adventures when they were in Hogwarts.

"I was sorted into Gryffindor," Ambrosia said. "Don't know why, though. The only thing I was brave enough to do was sticking gum to Alana Skinner's hair. Do you remember her?"

"How could we forget?" Acacia says. "The worst kind of Slytherin. All messed up, doing all kinds of dark magic."

"She set my robes on fire once," Acadia says. "Good thing we had each other," she smiles at her sister. "Cee Cee jumped over her and punched her a bunch of times."

"Who needs magic when we have ours fists, right?" Acacia giggles. "Like I'd let a stupid git like Skinner hurt my Dee Dee."

Apparently there's a Merula Snyde everywhere; although I think this kind of thing sounds more like Ismelda.

The rest of the evening is nice and quite enjoyable; by the time everyone leaves, I'm feeling way better, though I'm still mad at Aunt Anise and her stupid beliefs. I go back to my bedroom, resting my head on my pillow, starring at the ceiling with tired eyes. I end up sleeping fully clothed, a chilly breeze entering by the opened window.

* * *

There's a mysterious woman in my dreams.

I'm standing in the middle of the living room in Sunderland, my sorrowful mother next to me. We're both staring at my dad, looking handsome as always, holding a woman in his arms. At first, I think it's my mum, but the image gets blurred when I try to get nearer.

When I look to my side, searching for my mum's eyes, she's not there anymore. Instead, I see the same armchair where I found her, her pale wrist falling carelessly to the side. I don't need to come closer to know what happened. A terrible feeling possesses my heart and I fall to my knees, finding it hard to breathe.

"I'm sorry, Athena," someone says.

That voice. It stings my heart, but it also brings me comfort. I turn around to look and I see Jake. He looks at me with his familiar blue eyes, but there's something wrong with him. He's transparent, like he is a ghost. I reach out to touch him, but my hands pass right through his body.

"Jake."

"I'm sorry, Athena," he repeats, looking at the scenario developing around us, and his eyes liger on the armchair holding our lifeless mother. "It's all my fault."

"No, Jake!" I say, feeling the tears coming to my face.

"I'm sorry," he smiles kindly and then begins to disappear.

I try hugging him, but he vanishes in between my arms, like he's made of smoke.

I wake up drenched in sweat, feeling completely awful. The morning sun floods my bedroom, but the terrible sensation persists. I get up, thinking of taking a shower, when a huge red stain calls my attention. It's all over my sheets – dark red, almost maroon – and the metallic scent invades my nostrils.

 _Oh, great._

A quick check makes me aware that the same blood stained the back of my dress, as well as my tights. Impressive how you can't die from this kind of bleeding... it's a heck lot of blood.

The sound of a sweet humming startles me and I see Holly happily entering my bedroom, carrying a basket with clean laundry.

"Good morning, Ath-"

She loses her voice midways when she sees the stain on my bed. Then she looks at me and smiles.

"Don't worry," she says. "Go take a shower. I'll get you some tea and a potion."

"Holly, you don't need to-"

"Now, come'n," she says, indicating the door. "You'll feel much better."

I flash her a thankful smile before leaving to the bathroom. I undress, entering the shower, letting the hot water fall over my body, making my skin a little bit red. The water flowing down the drain is bright carmine, but it doesn't bother me too much. Maybe that's the reason I've been so emotional and cranky. Perhaps, in a regular day, I wouldn't be as sensitive.

I put on my bathrobe, going back to my bedroom, meeting my grandma midways.

"Holly told me," she gives me a reassuring smile. "Here."

She gives me one of the same potions I'm used to drinking at school. It tastes awful, but I don't bleed anymore. It's much more refreshing to put on some clean clothes and the potion kinda brings me a bit of cheer. I have breakfast with Holly and my grandparents and grandma looks at Gil's present with a scowl.

"Beautifying Magical Cream," she reads the flask. "What's in this?"

She reads the ingredients with a frown, squinting her eyes and making odd faces.

"It's a flower extract with dragon's manure," she sighs. "I wonder what it smells like."

She pumps it a few times on the back of her hand and takes it closer to her nose. The disgusted face she makes would be funny if it wasn't tragic; it's obvious that Gil's beauty cream smells like shit. Literally.

"I know he's my grandson and I love him, but holy Merlin!" she says. "Not even my poor mushrooms would like this."

* * *

On the Tuesday morning, December 30th, I go out for another ride on my broom. It's a pretty warm day for wintertime and the snow is melting over the sand. I circle in the air, daring to make a few bolder pirouettes, feeling the awesome sensation of freedom running through my veins.

I fly a bit closer to the ground, reaching my hand to touch the melting snow, when my eyes meet something curious: a bunch of glowing blue mushrooms. I climb off my broom and take a closer look. They're delicate and supernatural looking, with a blue spark to it shimmering under the drops of water over it.

 _Pixie's parasol._

I go back to the house and grab a big glass flask from my grandma's potions room; I fill it with a soft tissue and spray it with my grandma's recipe to keep herbs fresh longer. It's faster to return on my broom; I grab the mushrooms and place them carefully inside the flask. I don't know why I'm doing this, but I continue it anyway.

I spend the whole night staring at the iridescent mushrooms over my nightstand; I even wrapped a bow around the flask and it made me feel a little stupid. My lids start to feel heavy as I watch the glowing fungi and I fall into sweet dreamland, where I dream I have purple hair and am surrounded by colorful mushrooms.

* * *

This year we don't spend the New Year in London; instead, we go to Aunt Anise's house in Bristol. She lives in a big house over a hill, close to the Avon River and the Leigh Woods National Nature Reserve. There are so many beautiful girls pampering Gil – who's wearing shiny silver robes – that for a moment I think I entered a beauty pageant. A girl with flawless straight hair seems to be making extra effort to call his attention, but he doesn't seem to notice. He's making whimsical gestures, telling them some mendacious story about his untrue adventures doing phony stuff. It's not that I don't think he's capable of doing everything he tells us he has done...

It's just that I don't believe him and period.

Holly looks particularly dashing in her ivory dress and she gladly accepts a glass of rosé that another house elf offers. As I can tell, Aunt Anise doesn't have the same care for her employees as my grandmother; her house elf looks old, mistreated and very sad.

"Do you wish some rosé, miss?" he offers me.

"No, thank you, sir," I smile. "But I'd like a soda... if you have any."

He blinks his big hazel eyes at me and runs away, dropping a bunch of glasses on the way. Grandma approaches me and sighs.

"Apparently Anise learned nothing from me," she says. "She's so different from your mother."

"I know," I say. "If she hadn't come out from you, I could swear she was adopted."

Grandma giggles, returning to the crowd of family and friends, happily talking to very familiar dark-haired woman. I squint my eyes to remember where do I know her from, when someone taps on my shoulder.

"Tonks!" I exclaim, feeling completely surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Your grandmother invited us," she smiles. "Mum told me your grandma said she wouldn't bear to spend the New Year with her daughter's brackish friends."

Tonks hair is longer and of a pale blue, matching her iridescent blue dress.

"How do you do this?" I ask her. "Change your hair whenever you want?"

"I'm a metamorphmagus," she giggles. "I can change a whole lot than just my hair."

She twitches her nose and it instantly takes the form of a long hummingbird beak; then it goes back to normal.

"Wow," I smile. "That's amazing!"

"It's very useful," she says. "I hope if, someday, I have a kid, he or she inherits it."

Tonks is actually a very nice person to be around; we sit alone in a table over the lawn, drinking some fizzy drinks and eating cake, and she tells me about all the pranks she has already played on Filch.

"You know," I tell her. "Tulip is also quite a prankster."

"You mean Tulip Karasu?" she raises her eyes. "Hmmm... she must be really discrete, then. I'm a little wackier," and then she laughs happily.

"Maybe you two could join forces," I suggest. "Would drive Filch crazy."

"Not a bad idea, Lockhart," she winks at me and raises her soda can. "To driving Filch crazy!"

"And to the new pranks to come," I raise my can to meets hers.


	45. Year 3: Chapter 17 - Charms

**Introduction:** Hi, everyone! How are you doing? I spend five days without posting, but mainly because my master's thesis is taking a lot of my time. I think I'll have to rethink my schedule and maybe post once every five days or once a week. I don't know. I have most of the fourth year already written, but I'm struggling with writer's block. Anyway, I'd like to send a big shout out to **James** , **Son of Whitebeard** and for the sweet reviews. And I also wanna thank **SKKAgentCates** for the kind messages. I hope you like today's chapter and don't forget to check my Castelobruxo tales. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Seventeen – Charms**

The spirit of the holidays wasn't enough to free Hogwarts from its growing mysteries. Right when we get back, I take a very painful Rowan to the Hospital Wing: apparently everything that comes with becoming a woman is some kind of a pain. She spent the whole journey complaining about headaches and cramps, eating truffle after truffle until she started to feel nauseated too.

A lot of students actually spent the holidays in school – so Tulip wasn't alone in the cold castle – and there are a few of them in the Hospital Wing when we get there.

"Christmas excesses," Madam Pomfrey tells us, giving a potion bottle to Rowan. "I've been having a lot of trouble with sleepwalking students too."

Rowan and I exchange concerned stares. With boggarts and curses lurking in every shadow, it is very dangerous to wander around, half asleep. I wonder if these episodes have something to do with the cursed vaults.

"Madam Pomfrey, are there any healing spells?" I ask her. They'd be useful, after all, considering all the trouble we get into.

"Of course!" she says. "I wouldn't be a nurse without them. Why do you ask?"

"I," _think of a good lie._ "I've been thinking about following a medical career."

For my surprise, Madam Pomfrey opens a happy smile.

"How nice of you, dear," she says. "Would you like to learn a healing spell?"

"Of course," I smile back.

"Meet me here tomorrow then," she says. "Things get a little quieter on Saturdays."

It is fairly refreshing to go back to school without heading directly to class; Rowan manages to repeat three times during dinner, saying the potion completely opened her appetite.

Tulip doesn't seem to be gloomy anymore; in fact, she has a very cheerful smile during the meal, telling us about all the pranks she played on Filch during the Holidays.

"I smuggled a pie from the kitchens," she tells us. "And stuffed if with a Fanged Frisbee. You should've seen his face!" and she bursts into laughter.

After dinner, with our stomachs full of turkey, baked potatoes and other delicious stuff, we go back to our dorms. Rowan, as usual, lays next to me for a little midnight conversation, but she ends up falling asleep. I stare at the canopy for a while before finally slipping into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

As Madam Pomfrey said, the Hospital Wing is way more silent when I get there on Saturday morning, after an amazing breakfast, filled with delicious golden waffles.

"Good morning, Madam Pomfrey," I say as she checks on a sleeping student.

"Good morning, Miss Lockhart," she smiles. "Ready for our lesson?" and I nod. "The spell I'll teach today is called _Episkey._ "

" _Episkey_ ," I repeat.

"Precisely," she tells me. "It heals minor injuries, like small cuts, a broken nose... I happen to have a student here with a severe lip cut due to the winter."

"People underestimate the power of a good lip balm," I say as she takes me to a boy whose lip is a bit swollen and has a big bleeding cut on his bottom lip.

The boy doesn't seem too happy to serve as a guinea pig to my training, but he stands still and watches us with wide eyes. Madam Pomfrey teaches me the correct movement and pronunciation, smiling when I do it correctly.

"Are you okay, Mr. Hill?" she asks to the boy who's starting to look a little pale. "No need to be nervous. From what I've heard, Miss Lockhart it a very proficient witch."

The boy seems to relax a bit, but takes a deep breath when I point my wand at him.

" _Episkey_ ," I enunciate, and his lip cut instantly closes, leaving not even the sign of a scar behind.

"Very good, Miss Lockhart," Madam Pomfrey says as the boy touches his lip with a relieved expression. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey!" I say, a big smile opening on my face.

"I could use your help if you're interested," she says. "Soon there will be a lot of students here. I don't know how kids can be so reckless, but I think it would be a good opportunity for you to learn and improve your skills if you plan on following a medical career."

I look at her, completely astonished.

Though I'm not even sure I want to follow a medical career, leaning extra spells and potions would be incredible for me; not to say very useful.

"I'd love to help you," I say, without even considering that it will cause me to have even less time to search for my brother.

"I'll ask for you when you are needed," she says. "Thank you, Miss Lockhart."

I leave the Hospital Wing wanting to test my new spell on everything I can; so I use it when Rowan cuts her finger with paper while turning the page of a book and on Ben when he stumbles on a rock and scratches his knee.

Right after lunch, I drop by the dorm and grab the flask full of glowing mushrooms. Rowan, thankfully, went straight to the library; because Bill said he needed help with an assignment he left to the last minute. So she doesn't see me hopping around the castle with blue mushrooms in hand, heading straight to the dungeons.

The Potions classroom door is closed, but unlocked. The mossy scent immediately invades my lungs, bringing in a familiar and nostalgic sensation. I enter the room and notice Professor Snape brewing a potion, extremely focused, his eyes glued to the black solution.

I walk silently to him and leave the flask over his desk. His eyes do not move from the potion and I try to leave the classroom discreetly, thinking I might not have been noticed.

"What are you doing here on a Saturday afternoon, Miss Lockhart?" he asks, calmly, when I'm almost reaching the door.

"I... I just wanted to leave you those mushrooms," I say. "Pixie's parasol."

"They're very rare," he says. "Haven't seen them in quite a while."

"I know," I say. "Thought you'd like them."

He says anything else and I leave, heading to the library, where I find a blushing Rowan helping Bill with his Transfiguration assignment. I do not join them; I would never take a moment like this away from Rowan. So I wander around, pulling a few random books and putting them back again, finding only dust, looking for any clue I may have left behind.

The day outside is cloudy and very likely to snow, so almost every student is inside the castle, walking by the corridors, relaxing with friends, and I even walked by a couple snogging near the Restricted Section. Madam Pince is cleaning some higher shelves, so fortunately for them, she doesn't seem to notice.

Just before dinner, we all gather in the Courtyard and I bring all the presents I've got for my friends. The clouds seem to have gone and the sky is beautifully dotted with shiny starts and a bright moon. Rowan opens her present so fast that I think she may rip the box apart; it is no surprise that she immediately opens the chocolate box and starts eating them. Bill reaches out to grab one and their hands accidentally touch; even in the dim light I can see my friend crazily blushing.

Penny seems to love the book I've got her, the glittery hardcover shimmering under the moonlight. Bill also seems excited when he opens the book I gave him, the biography of a famous course-breaker. Tulip, on the other hand, doesn't show excitement; she stares at the book with glimmering eyes and then flashes me a sweet smile. Ben is the one who seems more emotional about the present, starting at the red t-shirt with watery eyes and pulling me for a hug.

"Hope you didn't think I wouldn't get you anything," Rowan winks, drawing a box from her jacket's pocket

"I won't let you have all the glory, Rowan," Penny rolls her eyes, putting her hands on her waist. "We both decided it would be the best gift."

"Aren't you presumptuous?" Ben says, offended. "I'm involved too!"

"Me too," Bill says, crossing his arms.

"I vote we all throw Rowan and Penny in the Black Lake," Tulip sighs.

I giggle, opening the beautiful bright pink box.

 _Fuchsia, not pink,_ Gil's voice says in my head.

Inside it there's a gorgeous golden bracelet with five little charms: a tree, a lion, a cauldron, crossed wands and a tulip. Bill helps me put it on and I feel my eyes watering.

"Like I'd ever forget you bunch of wackos," I smile, quickly drying a tear before it falls.

"We're not done yet!" Bill says, handing me a big and soft present that I find out to be a deliciously soft sapphire blue sweater with a big A on it. "Mum made sweaters for our squad."

That's when I notice Rowan is already wearing one, under her jacket; of a deeper blue shade with a big R right in the front. I wonder if Bill gave her the present on the library and it makes me think if he's finally developing feelings for her too.

"If you ever become friends with Merula, would you add a demon-shaped charm?" Rowan wonders with a giggle.

I play with the charms in the darkness of the dorm when I finally lay down to sleep. It feels good to have a little piece of everyone with me, even though presents don't really matter; they're just material things anyway. But Holly's necklace makes me feel protected, all these charms give me a boost of strength and confidence, Rowan's wooden bracelet brings me sweet memories and the small earrings my mom gave me makes me feel closer to her.

 _Keep me in your memories and leave it out the rest._

Will I ever be able to forget what I've seen or forgive what my dad did to her? Will this subtle pain ever go away?

* * *

Our next Quidditch match against Slytherin is due to a month from now, but Isaac seems to be determined to kick their asses; we start training very hard, under sun, snow or chilly rain, and he doesn't seem to care if we're tired or cold. He says we can all warm up in front of the fireplace later, but it ends up being just a lecture about how we must rip the smiles off from those Slytherins faces.

"We understand, Izzy," Matt says, rolling his eyes. "We've been training for two weeks and you keep saying the same crap."

"Because it's the truth," he says, calmly. "We managed to win the match against Hufflepuff, but that doesn't mean anything. We have to win this match as a matter of honor!"

Only a visit to Hogsmeade manages to calm me down for a bit and put Quidditch _and_ the still unfound clue out of my mind for a while. I sit with my friends in the Three Broomsticks, getting warm with mugs full of Butterbeer – with a splash of honey and sugar pearls – and I try not to look too dismayed.

We are all wearing our Weasley sweaters; actually looking like a crazy matching squad. Like superheroes or something.

"If it isn't Lockhart and her gang of weirdoes," Merula's voice fills the pub as she enters, followed by Barnaby and Ismelda.

"We should poison her Butterbeer," Ismelda suggests and Bill's hand instantly goes to his wand.

"Go away, Merula," I sigh, trying to sound indifferent.

"It's a public place, Lockhart," she says with a very snobby voice, rolling her eyes. "Why don't you leave and spare the place of your abnormality?"

"Hey, Merula," Rowan says, crossing her arms over the table and flashing a smirk at Merula. "Do you like rainbows and unicorns and kittens and lollies?"

Rowan, Penny, Bill, Tulip and I burst into laughter, while Merula stares at us with confused violet eyes. Ben, on the other hand, is staring at his Butterbeer with flushed cheeks. I wonder if he's afraid Merula may hex us.

"What are you talking about?" she asks, irritated. "You can be even stranger than Lockhart," and then she walks away with her cronies, leaving the pub with an annoyed expression.

We continue laughing until Madam Rosmerta comes to ask if we want more Butterbeer.

"Have you all heard?" she says with a smile. "Apparently there'll be a special guest at Hogwarts next week."

"A guest?" Rowan asks. "What for?"

"To make a speech, for what I've heard," she says with a pensive face. "Or to teach you something. I don't know for sure. More Butterbeer, dears?"

We exchange curious stares. Madam Rosmerta goes back to the bar to grab a few more Butterbeers and I begin to wonder who the mysterious guest may be.

"Maybe it's an Auror!" Rowan says, excitedly. "Or someone from the Ministry... Or an amazing Arithmancer!"

"Maybe it's the curse-breaker Dumbledore's been looking for," I suggest.

"I hope it's not another monster," Ben shrieks. "Professor Lorcan already scares the creeps out of me!"

"He's not a monster!" Rowan says, offended. "He's a dhampir! And a very handsome one."

Bill rolls his eyes and Ben makes a horrified face, as if what Rowan is saying is actually something very implausible. I admit – to myself, not out loud – that Professor Dracula is quite a handsome man, but he's creepy as hell. There haven't been any reports of him draining the blood of the students, but sometimes I think it's only a matter of time. But then again, I'm probably being judgmental... perhaps he's a nice vampire after all.

The little bell on the door rings and Tonks enters, bearing a bright blue hair and sparkling green eyes. She comes straight to our table and smiles at her fellow Hufflepuff, Penny.

"Hey Penny," she says and then looks at us. "Hi, guys!"

"Hi, Tonks," we say practically at the same time.

"I was hoping I'd find you here," she says to Penny. "Ismelda was threatening to curse Quinn for being muggle-born and now she's hiding over a tree and doesn't want to come down. I was wondering if you could-"

"Say no more," Penny says, getting up. "I'll be right back, guys."

"No way, Penny!" Bill says, getting up too. "If those freaks are involved, we'll be going with you."

Ben seems apprehensive to go, but Rowan pulls him by his sweater. We all walk to a gathering of trees near the fence dividing the village from the Shrieking Shack, where we can hear a low sobbing. Tonks indicates a tall tree, with thick branches a person could easily climb, and when we look up we see bushy strawberry hair between the hoarfrost covered leaves.

"Quinn!" Penny yells. "Come down here!"

"No!" the girls says, between sobs. "Ismelda said she would cast the Cruciatus curse on me if I got down!"

"And you believe her?" Penny says. "She wouldn't be able to do it even if she tried!"

"Come on, Quinn!" Tonks yells. "We won't let anything happen to you!" she turns her head to face us. "She's very sensitive. A bit like you, Ben."

"Can I try something?" I ask and I see Penny and Tonks nodding.

The branches are easy to climb, but Quinn is pretty high up there. When I look down, my friends look really, really small. I climb a few more branches until I finally sit in front of her. Her honey eyes meet mine and she has a pretty scared glow to them. Her curly hair has snow on them and she's trembling with the cold.

"Hi, Quinn," I say. "I'm not sure we've ever been introduced."

"You're Athena Lockhart," she says. "I know."

"Please, come down with me," I say. "Tonks and Penny are very worried."

"I don't care," she sighs. "I don't want to be Ismelda's target."

"You won't be," I tell her. "Ismelda may be scary, but she's pretty harmless."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

"Let me tell you this," I say. "Things aren't so scary when you're ready to face them. If you're so afraid of Ismelda, train harder. Become a powerful witch. Then she'll be the one afraid of you."

Her eyes glisten in my direction.

"Really?" she says.

"That's how I did it," I flash her a comforting smile. "Plus, having friends around is always helpful. I wouldn't be here without those weirdoes down there."

Quinn smiles subtly. Her rounded face is very pretty and when she smiles she looks even prettier.

"Come on," I say. "Let's get out of this tree. You were brave enough to climb it... I think you're brave enough to face Ismelda."

"Do you think so?"

"I know so," I climb down a branch and offer her my hand to help her get down.

"Thanks, Athena," she smiles.

When we have our feet rested on the ground, Penny pulls Quinn for a hug. Rowan, Ben and Bill are distracted in some funny conversation, because they keep releasing some snickers. Tonks and Tulip seem engaged in an entertaining conversation, because they barely notice when we get off the tree.

"How come we have never talked before?" Tonks says, wrapping her arm around Tulip's neck while we're walking back to the bar. "Let's go to Zonko's right now!"

"Nobody will be able to stop us!" Tulip giggles as they head to Zonko's and completely ignore the rest of us.

"Filch better watch out!" Tonks laughs, but we lose them when they get into the joke shop.

I smile, both on my lips and on my heart, because now I'm sure Tulip has found a friend who'll take her to better and greener pastures, that don't involve dark magic or creepiness.

I think...


	46. Year 3: Chapter 18 - The Other Woman

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! Long time no see! How are you all doing? I really miss posting regularly, but my thesis is taking all of my time. However, I am still playing the game and following other players on Instagram and _oh my God_ (read this in Janice's voice), things are getting interesting. I honestly don't know what to think anymore. Where are you guys on the game? What are you thinking about it? Let me know your theories. Anyway, I hope you like today's chapter and please leave a comment so I know what you're thinking about it. I wanna send a big shout out to **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz, Rina, Son of Whitebeard** and **James,** who left sweet reviews on the last chapter. As you guys know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Eighteen – The Other Woman**

I dream of her again.

The mysterious woman.

This time I find myself in my old bedroom in Sunderland, only everything looks different; the decoration is extremely whimsical, all in shades of turquoise and bright purple, with a glistening chandelier pending from the ceiling. My desk has several copies of the Daily Prophet, as well as an acid-green quill, carelessly sitting over a notepad.

"Athena!" I hear my father calling from downstairs. "Come here."

It is tempting not to go. It's a dream after all; I can do whatever I want. But somehow I am drawn to the stairs, my legs moving against my will, taking me to the living room.

It also looks different: the family pictures over the mantel are gone, but there are several big ones on the wall, bearing a woman whose face is blurred. My father is waiting for me, his arm passionately around a woman's waist; the same woman from the pictures. Again, her face is blurred as if I'm staring at her through a rainy window.

"Come meet your new mother."

I feel like screaming, but I produce no sound. The woman reaches her arms in my direction, calling for a hug. I plant my feet on the ground, telling myself firmly that I shall not move.

My dad's face twists into a scowl and he looks absurdly mad.

"I'll be shipping you to Plymouth," he hisses. "Without wand. Without magic. Without anyone."

My heart feels heavy and I start to find it hard to breathe. The scene before my eyes starts to dissolve into smoke and I finally open my eyes to the canopy's bed curtains. The weight over my chest is the explanation for my uneasy sleep; Rowan has her arm heavily thrown over my stomach, drooling over my shoulder.

All my dreams have shown to be some sort of premonitions.

This time, I hope they're not.

* * *

The castle is buzzing with the news that someone will come to do whatever it is the rumors say; some say it's just for a speech, some say is to teach us about dark magic and some say it's Celestina Warbeck, who'll come to make a live performance.

I join Rowan after the Quidditch Practice and we sit together to have lunch. She had to have her new Weasley sweater cleaned and it shows how pissed she is about it. She has a spells book lying against the milk jar, searching for a spell to make clothes forever clean.

"I'm not sure that even exists," I tell her.

"It has to exist," she squints her eyes, turning pages with determination. "There are spells to repel plagues, spells to prevent stains... how there cannot be a spell that makes my sweater forever clean and scented?"

As usual, to call our attention, Professor McGonagall gently taps her fork against her water glass, producing a tinkling sound that makes us all turn heads to face her.

"As many of you know, we will have a special guest in our school for the next week," she says, clearly peeved about it. "I hope you all show your best demeanor and do not, by any means, disgrace this school's name. Now, without further delay, please give a warm welcome to our guest, Rita Skeeter!"

I get gaped, shaking my head to make sure I've heard it correctly. I look at Rowan and she looks back at me with concern. Even Tulip glances at me with condescending eyes.

A wooden door behind the teacher's table opens to reveal a very extravagant – not to say eccentric – woman. She has rosy skin with very flushed cheeks; her eyes are of a lime-green, sparking behind turtle-shell glasses. Her hair is short and icy blonde, perfectly curled and tamed. But what calls the most attention is her outfit: she's wearing an acid-orange tailleur – matching with her orange lipstick – and bright green stilettos. She walks fiercely to the front of the table, placing one hand on her hip and the other removing the glasses, flashing us her sparkling eyes and perfectly arched brows.

"As Professor McGonagall so plainly stated, I am Rita Skeeter," she says with a pearly smile and cocky voice. "And as I'm sure you know, I am a wildly popular writer for the Daily Prophet."

You mean a wildly popular _liar_.

"The wizarding world is absolutely buzzing about what's happening within these walls," she continues, winking at us. "And I don't just mean the Cursed Vaults. They say this is the most promising assemblage of students _in years_ , and my rabid readers are desperate for details."

She places her glasses back on her face and now have both hands rested on her hips.

"What school subjects do you adore?" she asks to no one. "What challenges do you face? Who is the brightest star in this veritable galaxy of magical talent?"

Veritable galaxy of magical talent... I roll my eyes and rest my head on my hand.

"Professor Dumbledore has given our periodical permission to not only observe, but concoct a friendly competition. A test of sorts to determine who amongst you deserves to be recognized as the most promising witch or wizard in the world," she says and Rowan looks at me with a frown. "The winner will receive great rewards, of course. Beginning with a front page article in the Daily Prophet penned by yours truly."

A whole bunch of lies, definetely.

"Good luck, my wonderful young hopefuls!" she says with a smirk. "I'll be seeing all of you in your classes, and rest assured, _I will be watching._ "

* * *

I sit with my friends in the Courtyard before Professor Sanguinary's class and I seem to be the only one not excited at all about this useless competition.

"Sound thrilling!" Penny says with a smile. "The chance to show the world my abilities with potions! What do you think about the competition, Athena?"

"I hate the Daily Prophet," I sigh, feeling bad for being such a buzz-kill. "They spread lies and dragged my family's name through the mud just to sell more papers."

"My mum has never been much of a fan either," Bill says, scratching his chin.

"I'll still do my best in hopes of learning some new spells and potions to help with the vaults," I shrug.

"But your best is so much better than ours," Ben says, dismayed.

"Rubbish, Benny," Rowan says. "You're amazing with incantations."

Ben blushes a little bit.

"Well, speak for yourself, Copper," Bill says casually. "I'd like to win and make the paper for doing something good before my brothers make it for exploding something."

"We all have at least one special talent," she blinks her eyes at Bill, but he doesn't seem to notice. "So I think it's anyone's game."

"May the best witch or wizard win!" Penny says, finally, with a big smile.

Tulip and Tonks do not participate our conversation; they're busy discussing a great prank to play on Rita Skeeter.

And as terrible as it sounds, I do hope the prank is good.

* * *

I do not see Rita Skeeter in any of my classes until I finally reach the dungeons. She's carelessly draped against the stone wall, a neon pink quill floating next to her, quickly scribbling over a notepad.

"Well, hello, dear," she says with a big phony smile, running a perfectly polished red nail around the frame of her glasses. "I certainly didn't expect to find you alone in this corridor."

I roll my eyes and don't even try to hide it.

"First of all, I'm not alone," I say, indicating Rowan and Tulip. "And it seems like you were _waiting_ for me to pass this way."

"You're as clever as they say, Miss Lockhart," she says. "Or should I call you Athena?"

"Doesn't matter," I sit, firmly. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

She places herself in front of me.

"It matters a great deal to my readers," she says. "You've made quite a name for yourself in your brief time at Hogwarts. I suppose it runs in your family."

She winks her green eye at me and I feel like vomiting.

"And I suppose you don't know what you're talking about," I say with a wry smile. "Now ex-"

"Not as much as I would like," she interrupts me. "But if you share what you know, I could use my investigative talents and extensive network to help you find your brother."

I squint my eyes at her.

"I'd rather not," I reply, dryly.

"As you with, dear," she smirks. "I'll investigate myself. Who knows what else I might find... your dad was a true angel, sharing his thoughts with me."

I close my hands in fists with the mention of my dad.

It's true.

He gave an interview to the Daily Prophet.

To this giant beetle-looking banshee.

"I don't care about my father's opinion," I say.

"Oh, but you should, my dearest," she smiles. "Especially now that we are kind of family."

My eyes widen in her direction and I feel Rowan's hand grabbing the back of my robes.

"Excuse me?" I say with a frown.

"Didn't he tell you?" she says, showing a false surprise. "Oh, Chris is so forgetful. Didn't he mention that we are dating? It's been a while now, dear."

My stomach seems to twirl inside my body and I honestly wish I could vomit all over her orange clothes. My nails start to dig into the skin of my palms, but Professor Snape comes to the classroom door and flashes me a severe-looking stare.

"You have class now, Miss Lockhart," he says, coldly. "Or do you wish to waste precious time providing information to the Daily Prophet?"

I give one last sharp glance at Rita Skeeter and enter the Potions classroom, angrily dropping my bag on the stone floor. Rowan tried to give me a reassuring smile, but my blood is boiling and I don't feel like relaxing.

Professor Snape stands in front of the classroom, Rita Skeeter right next to him.

"I have reluctantly agreed to allow Rita Skeeter to _observe_ today's class and note the results," he says in a monotonous tone. "You will be tested on various techniques related to potions you have learned in previous years. I have chosen useful potions to contrast the utter absurdity of this useless popularity contest framed as a competition."

"Dazzle me with your potions prowess!" Rita Skeeter says with a big extravagant gesture.

I roll my eyes again, thinking they'll find their way to my brain if I keep on doing it, and focus on the instructions on the board. Professor Snape chose different potions to different sets of students; Rowan, Barnaby, Merula and I got the Wiggenweld Potion.

Piece of cake.

I walk to the cabinets to grab all necessary ingredients and head back to my cauldron, trying to ignore Rita Skeeter breathing on my neck. I search for Professor Snape and he simply gives me a lenient stare.

I pull my hair back in a long ponytail and roll up my sleeves before starting. This potion is pretty natural to me, having done her a few times in my private lessons with Professor Snape, but Rita Skeeter doesn't need to know that. I do the whole process very automatically, but still enjoying myself, until I finally add the Boom-Berry Juice and have to wait thirty minutes for the potion to simmer.

I sit by the table and open my Potions book, carelessly reading about some more advanced potions I hope to learn. Rita Skeeter seems to notice and walks to me, hear high heels tapping against the floor.

"So, Athe-"

"I said observe only, Miss Skeeter," Professor Snape says sharply and I say a voiceless 'thank you' to him.

Those seem to be the longest thirty minutes of my life, with Rita Skeeter waltzing around the classroom, yet constantly coming back to check on my cauldron. Every time she approaches I keep a hawk eye on her, just to make sure she's not trying to sabotage my potion.

"Who won, Mr. Snape?" she says, at last, when we all have our potions ready in our cauldrons.

"Both Miss Lockhart and Miss Snyde appear to have brewed equally adequate concoctions," he says, looking very annoyed.

"Oh!" Rita Skeeter says with a bright white smile. "Can I break the tie?"

"If it will put an end to this sooner," he sighs, going to his desk and ignoring Rita Skeeter's excitement.

"Okay, lovelies!" she says in a high-pitched tone. "Let's hear some dirt!"

She walks to me, putting her hands on her hips. From the other side of the classroom, Merula flashes me a devilish smirk.

"Excuse me?" I say, crossing my arms in front of my body.

"My rabid readers are _dying_ to know what makes you little witches and wizards tick," she says. "Tell me your most terrible fears. Your most horrible moments. Your most devastating embarrassments," and I roll my eyes again. "Better yet, tell me your opponent's! The best answer wins this round of the competition."

I simply stare at her green eyes, my lips completely sealed. She then walks to Merula, who seems to be trembling in excitement. Her violet eyes spark in my direction and I know no good will come from her poisonous lips.

"Lockhart's brother went mad, and ruined Ravenclaw's reputation, and nearly destroyed Hogwarts in the process," she spits, looking very pleased with herself.

For my joy, that's all she seems to know about me.

"That's old news, dear," Rita Skeeter says, unhappy. She then turns her eyes in my direction. "I hope you have something better for me, Athena."

"As a matter of fact, I do," I say, icily. "Don't call me Athena."

I grab my bag from the floor and my eyes look for Professor Snape's. He simply nods at me and I turn my back on Rita Skeeter's disgusting face, leaving the cold dungeons and that woman's annoying presence.

"You still won as the best potion," Rowan tells me during dinner. "She said Merula is a complete bore, while you are sassy and interesting."

I gasp, risking a look at the teacher's table, where Rita Skeeter is happily chatting with Professor McGonagall. The Professor, on the other hand, seems to be utterly irritated.

"Whatever," I say to Rowan. "Did you hear what she said before class? That she's dating my father?"

"Yes," she says. "That's so not cool."

"My mum died in July!" I shriek. "And he's already dating another wom-"

I lose my voice halfway. My eyes find the shiny metal jar of juice and I squint at me reflection.

"She's the one," I grumble. "The affair."

"What are you talking about, Athie?" Rowan asks, confused.

I tell her everything about my mother's letter, my grandparents fight for my custody, and my odd dreams with a strange woman.

"Do you think it's Skeeter?" she asks. "That's really messed up!"

"If she is," I say. "I have way more reasons not to trust her."

I feel nauseated all night and this time, when I finally fall asleep, the mysterious woman's face regains its focus.

There's no denying that.

It's Rita Skeeter.

* * *

I'm not expecting to be abruptly pulled inside the Potions classroom and have the door locked behind me when I arrive for the private lessons. Professor Snape looks around and raises his wand in the air.

" _Homenum Revelio_ ," he says, but nothing seems to happen.

His face relaxes and he looks at me with intensity. My heart rushes at the sight of those severe raven eyes and he seems to be very much irritated.

"Quite noble of you not revealing information about Miss Snyde," he says.

"I won't play Skeeter's putrid game," I say and he smiles with my response.

"Our lessons are suspended," he says and before I have time to protest, he continues. "Just until she's far away from this castle. I have warned Dumbledore about that woman, but he seems to be getting very... _passive_... as the years go by," his black eyes stare deeply into mine. "Listen closely, Miss Lockhart. _Do not trust Rita Skeeter._ And use the Human-Presence-Revealing Spell to _always_ make sure she's not around."

I swallow hard.

"Now leave," he says. "I do not want her to think I'm favoring you."

"Are you?" I ask with a snicker, but his intense stare makes my smile vanish.

I leave the classroom, my hand wrapped around the wand in my pocket, wondering what Rita Skeeter is up to and why Professor Snape thinks I must be extra careful around her.

* * *

She seems to stalk me around the castle: in the library, in the Transfiguration class, during Astronomy... she even has the guts to disturb Professor Flitwick's lesson.

"She asked me about the note you found signed R," Ben tells me in a low voice. "Good thing the cursed ice erased my memory."

"How does she even know about that?" I ask.

"Maybe Angelica told her," Rowan says, annoyed. "We asked her for help, remember?"

"Oh, yes," I sigh. "That useless git."

Professor Flitwick cleans his throat and we all turn to look at his. As usual, he's standing over a tall pile of books, looking quite happy with himself.

"Rita Skeeter is observing Charms class today as a part of her school-sanctioned competition," he says. "Please focus on today's lesson, and attempt to ignore the obvious distraction."

"What could possibly be more distracting than you?" she says with a witty smirk.

"Your obnoxious perfume for starters," Flitwick shrugs and raises his wand to begin the lesson.

"Excuse me?" she says, offended.

"Wands up, everyone. Let us begin!" he says, ignoring her.

He decides on making a mild revision on the Levitation Charm, and this time Ben is not afraid to float around the classroom. In fact, he even has a very pleased smile on his face.

We spend the whole lesson practicing, and Rowan even attempts to make a full bookshelf float. It takes a lot of effort and concentration, but she manages to do it with perfection.

"Now, let's practice the counter-spell," Professor Flitwick says, aiming his wand at Rita Skeeter. " _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

She instantly floats several inches from the floor and her stiletto falls from one of her feet.

"What do you think you're doing?" she says, looking completely disgusted.

"Providing my students with a practical text of the General Counter-Spell," he says with an amused smile. "Please demonstrate, Miss Lockhart."

I have to press my lips together in order not to laugh. I point my wand directly in her direction, containing the urge to cast a more useful spell.

" _Finite Incantatem!_ " I cast and she instantly returns to the floor, putting her shoe back on.

"Well done, Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says with a smirk. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."

"My readers will hear of this outrage!" she spits, her face twisted in a scowl.

"Class dismissed!" the Professor says and I grab my bag to leave the classroom.

It could've been an effect of the light, but Professor Flitwick seems to wink at me before I leave. Perhaps he did it all on purpose, to let off some steam. Or maybe Professor Snape told him about Rita Skeeter's annoying demeanor towards me on Potions class.

Either way, I leave feeling lighter and more relaxed, even though I feel waves of nausea whenever I think of her and my father snogging.

"Revolting," I say to myself, determinedly walking to the changing rooms for Quidditch practice.

This time Rita Skeeter doesn't follow me and I feel thankful for that. Just this time I wish I was a beater, just to imagine her face on the bludgers.

How invigorating that would be.


	47. Year 3: Chapter 19 - Matters of the Hear

**Introduction:** Hello, my beautiful lovelies! How are you all doing today? I wish you all an amazing September! And to properly begin this month, I decided to post another chapter. I'm so sorry for only posting once a week now, but things are cra-a-zy around here. Anyway, I'd like to send a big shout out to **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **James** , **Lyrissa Artemick** , **Son of Whitebeard** and **Rina** for all the lovely comments. You guys rock! I also wanna thank all the new followers and everyone who made this story a part of your Favorites. I'm so happy you're liking it! I hope you also enjoy today's chapter and as you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Nineteen – Matters of the Heart**

She's so annoyingly manipulating that she manages to get Professor Kettleburn to agree to dismiss Rowan and I, on the Thursday afternoon, just so we can meet with another set of students in the school grounds.

"Why did she chose us?" Rowan asks me, confused.

"Perhaps we're the most promising," I shrug. "Or she's just trying to ruin our lesson about Fire Crabs."

Rowan sighs as we head to the crowd of students, but the sight of Penny's sweet face and Bill's exulted smile makes us feel better. On the other hand, for my completely distress, I find Merula's messy hair shaking as she walks towards me.

"They'll never let a freak like you be the face of Hogwarts," she says with a mischievous smile.

I ignore Merula's comment as Rita Skeeter comes strutting in our direction, wearing a bright purple dress, decked with a bunch of pearls.

"I suppose you're wondering why I invited you here," she says with her usual obnoxious voice. "Well, what would a wizarding competition be without a duel?"

"It's against the rules to duel on school grounds!" Rowan says in a loud voice and I thank her for that.

"I've received a special exemption, dear," she says. "Besides, you're under my supervision."

What did Professor Snape call Dumbledore again?

Oh, yeah.

Passive.

"You want us to _duel each other?_ " Bill asks, worried.

"Actually, I want _Athena_ to duel someone of _her choosing_ ," she smiles. "The rest of you can duel whoever you want."

"You've got to be kidding me," Merula says, rolling her eyes.

"Athena is the favorite to win this competition," Rita Skeeter says. "And from what I've heard, she's quite skilled in duels. Not at all like you, Miss Snyde."

Merula grumbles and crosses her arms.

I grouch as Rita Skeeter pulls me to her side and I have to fight the urge to hex her.

"Don't call me Athena," I warn her again, but she doesn't seem to hear.

"Now make your choice, dear," she says. "Will you duel one of your friends or that awful Slytherin witch who appears to be your rival?"

My eyes fly from face to face; I find Chester and Angelica between the few selected ones, and I also see a few of my Quidditch team and choir mates. My eyes linger especially on Rowan, Bill and Merula, but I fight a mental battle to make the correct choice.

I would never lose on purpose to favor Rowan or Bill, but perhaps fighting them would be more challenging and would give them some sort of advantage in this competition. Bill said he would love to make the front page of the Daily Prophet, so my eyes gaze at his blue ones and he smiles at me.

"I'll duel Bill Weasley," I announce and Bill happily walks to me, wand in hand, looking quite thrilled.

I pull Rowan by the hem of her sleeve.

"Duel Merula," I whisper. "And kick her ass."

We all stand away from each other, so none of us accidentally hit the other with a untargeted spell. Rowan and Merula stand right next to us and Merula seems to be thinking she's undefeatable when compared to my geek-looking friend.

Bill and I make the proper bowing before the duel and aim our wands to each other.

" _Expelliarmus_!" he yells, but I manage to shield myself from it.

" _Stupefy_!" I cast the recently learned spell Chester taught me, but Bill protects himself.

We exchange a bunch of spells until we're panting and our hearts are racing. Bill even _physically_ managed to dodge one of my attacks and I almost applauded him for that.

" _Rictusempra!_ " I shout, but he uses the Shield Charm against it again.

I'm starting to lose my breath and Bill seems to notice that.

" _Everte Statum!_ " he casts and I am pushed back with immense force, falling ungraciously over a pile of fresh snow. "Sorry!"

He helps me get up and we recover our breath while watching Rowan and Merula exchanging angry sparks; Rowan managed to hit Merula with _Rictusempra,_ and she's angrily laughing while trying to aim her wand at Rowan. My friend, however, is witty and quick; Rowan raises her wand again and casts _Expelliarmus_ , making Merula's wand fly a few meters in the air and fall over the snow.

Rowan, unlike Bill, doesn't apologize.

"Impressive work, Athena," Rita Skeeter says when everyone finishes dueling. "I think it's fairly obvious that you've won this portion of the competition."

"And I think it's fairly obvious that you're blind," I say, and Bill and Rowan snicker.

"Nevertheless, you're still the favorite in this competition," she says.

"Whatever," I roll my eyes.

"I never cared about your gutter rag newspaper anyway!" Merula shouts angrily, returning to the castle with an expression of pure rage.

The crowd dissipates and Chester gives me tap on the back before returning to his daily activities.

"What a lousy git," I mumble, walking with Rowan to our Ancient Runes class. "Can't believe I missed Kettleburn's class for _that._ "

"Oh, but I quite enjoyed it," Rowan smirks. "Mainly because I got to kick Merula's ass. But also because I could watch Bill dueling. He is a quite impressive wizard."

"I just hope that, if he wins, Rita Skeeter doesn't write a bunch of crap about him."

* * *

The worst thing about having Rita Skeeter in the castle is the fact I seem to stumble against her every-fucking-where. If she's stalking me, she's not very good at it.

 _Do not trust her._

These words keep rushing through my mind every time I meet her arrogant green eyes.

 _Thank goodness the week is ending._

I wake up on Friday, only to find her sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room, wearing a bright yellow outfit, her quill floating next to her.

"Hello, Athena," she says when she sees me heading to the door. "I hope you're in the mood for good news."

"Don't call me Athena," I say for the hundredth time. "And isn't it against the rules for you to be here?"

"The best thing about being a writer is you get to make your own rules," she smirks. "I have influence in this castle, and a multitude of methods to increase that influence when necessary. An exchange of information, gifts..."

"Manipulation... blackmail..."

"You really are devastatingly clever," she says, ignoring my sassiness. "After you graduate, you should be my apprentice at the Daily Prophet."

I cross my arms and raise my brows.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I won't be able to," I say. "You see, after my graduation I plan on marrying the Giant Squid and live in the Black Lake."

For my surprise, she throws her head back and laughs.

"Even though you refuse to share what you know about your brother, I wanted to tell you what I've learned about his whereabouts," she says, catching my attention. I clench my jaw and her red lips twist in an devilish smile. "Grant me an interview and I'll tell you everything."

It is _extremely_ tempting to hex her and throw her from the tower, but Rowan's hand on my shoulder makes me realize it's an unwise choice.

"I'm inclined to reject your offer," I say, simply. "Furthermore, I reckon there's much little information I can provide you... that you haven't already managed to extract from my father."

She stands up, tall over her extremely high heels, and walks to me with a defiant posture.

"I know that your reckless brother is alive and being held captive," her words pierce my heart like a knife and my whole soul seems to freeze.

 _Alive._

 _Held captive._

 _But he's alive!_

"I believe it's mysterious R is the responsible," she smirks. "I'll be sending you letters, Athena. And when I do, I suggest you follow the instructions." And with a flip of her curly hair, she leaves the Common Room with a confident smile.

Rowan looks at me with shock.

"Did you hear that bitch?" she says. "Threatening you! Who does she think she is?"

"My future stepmother, apparently," I say, my lips tighten in an stressful expression. "Is it possible that I'll dislike her as much as I dislike Merula?"

"At least you know Merula's threats are empty and unfounded," Rowan shrugs, hooking her arm in mine so we can go to the Great Hall for breakfast.

I tell the others everything when we get there, making sure to keep a keen eye in Rita Skeeter, who's dictating something to her quill, sitting by the teacher's table.

"That sounds like a threat," Ben says, shivering. "I know a threat when I hear one. I imagine them all the time!"

"Could Rita Skeeter be R?" Penny asks. "The letter you found talked about severe consequences for not following the instructions."

"I don't know," I say. "But she's at the top of our suspect list."

The day passes with no following threats or interruptions, so I manage to go to the Choir practice, to Charms and the Quidditch practice without Rita Skeeter breathing down my neck. During lunch, she walks between the tables to interrogate a few students, but I flash so many ugly stares at her that she doesn't even get near me.

She doesn't show up to disturb Professor Vein-Drainer as well and I also get to have a very peaceful Divination class without the scent of Rita Skeeter's awful perfume to blend with the already strong scents in the classroom. Professor Snape seems to be particularly cheerful for not having her annoying presence inside his classroom and he doesn't even discount points from Ravenclaw when Tulip drops a jarful of ginger oil on the floor.

The Great Hall is boiling with conversations about the possible winner of the contest when I get there for dinner. A lot of them seem to turn their heads to look at me, but I ignore them all and find my place next to Rowan.

Rita Skeeter is already waiting in front of the teacher's table, hands on her hips, tapping her bright pink stiletto on the floor, an obnoxious smirk on her lips.

"Thank you again for your hospitality and enthusiastic participation in this humble competition," she announces with a big phony smile. "I told you I was here to find the most promising witch or wizard amongst a talented class, and you did not disappoint. The Dark Lord is defeated, but it's only a matter of time before a new threat arises."

Rowan looks at me and she needs to say nothing, because I know what's she's thinking.

Rita Skeeter is our new obvious threat.

"I'm confident that today's winner will lead the charge and deserves to be recognized throughout the wizarding world," she continues. "Without further do, the witch or wizard who has been deemed most promising and will be featured on the front page of the Daily Prophet is," she makes a dramatic pause. "going to be announced by Athena Lockhart."

I am caught off guard.

Rita Skeeter's green eyes flash in my direction and Rowan has to push me so I leave my position. I walk to that awful woman with several eyes glued to me and she makes me stand right next to her. She doesn't say anything nor hands me an envelope or something. I simply stare at her with confused eyes.

"Don't be shy, dear," she says. "We both know I gave you a paper announcing the winner before we arrived. It's in your pocket. Please, don't keep people waiting. Tell us who earned the victory."

I frown, sticking my hands in my pockets, only to find a folded piece of parchment inside my left one. I open it, but it's completely blank.

My eyes wander over the four crowded tables and to the hundreds of eyes blinking in my direction.

 _It's a test._

 _She's giving me the opportunity to choose._

 _What a fucking bitch._

My eyes search for my friends, though Merula is anxiously looking at me. Her violet eyes don't even look angry or scary; she seems to really want to win this, despite the fact she said she didn't care.

Once again I am drawn to Bill's blue eyes and his wish to make it to the front page. He opens a big smile, all dimples and sweetness, and I feel like my choice is obvious. I'm not sure Rita Skeeter will like it, but I honestly don't give a damn.

"The winner is," I enunciate. "BILL WEASLEY!"

There is silence for a few seconds until the crowd explodes in happy ovations. Bill stands up and walks to us; Rita Skeeter hands him a big envelope and opens a big false smile towards him.

"Congratulations, Mr. Weasley," she says. "As well as making front page of the Daily Prophet with what I'm sure will be a delightful testimony, you will also receive a Honeydukes gift card and a coupon for a romantic lunch at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop."

"Wow," he says. "Thank you, Madam."

Bills hops back to Gryffindor's table, but Rita Skeeter doesn't allow me to leave so quickly.

"I wanted to watch you squirm," she says in my ear. "See how you'd respond to the shock, attention and peer pressure. It will help inform how I'll deal with you in the future."

Her voice is cold as ice and her breath in my ear makes me want to punch her.

"I'm glad you chose Bill Weasley," she says. "I confess I was expecting you to pick the Snyde girl, but it doesn't matter. My readers will love to hear about your poor little friend with no perspective of a future."

I look at her with fire in my eyes, but she ignores me.

"I used my considerable influence to convince Professor Flitwick to reward you with fifty house points for your efforts," she smirks. "Good luck finding the Cursed Vaults and rescuing your brother, Athena. Remember, someone is _always_ watching and I'm only a letter away."

She rapidly pushes me towards the Ravenclaw table and ignores the ugly stares I flash her during all dinner.

"I wonder," Rowan says, trying to make me relax. "what would Merula do with a romantic coupon to Madam Puddifoot's."

"And I wonder," I say, looking at her brown eyes. "who will Bill take."

Her face turns bright red and she starts stuffing food in her mouth. I risk a look at the Gryffindor's table and Bill seems to be talking excitedly to his friend Wyatt and his brother Charlie. My eyes return to flushing Rowan and I honestly hope he asks her to go with him to the romantic lunch.

* * *

Peace seems to return to good old Hogwarts when that lousy writer finally leaves the castle. I finally get to relax a bit, though I'm constantly using the spell Professor Snape asked me to use whenever I find myself alone or in the need to talk about something important with my friends.

With January ending and the next Quidditch match on the horizon, Isaac seems to be exhausting us more and more with his crazy practices. As Riley keeps on saying, Isaac is completely obsessed.

"We have to win this match!" he yells as we practice under the cold heavy rain.

I am intercepted after a particularly tiring practice on a Wednesday morning; Bill pulls me aside, to a private spot behind a pillar, and his blue eyes spark in my direction.

"How are you in the ways of romance, Athena?" he asks me, his face inches away from mine, and my heart immediately starts beating faster.

"What?" I ask, shocked.

"I'm obsessed with this girl," he says. "Emily Tyler."

 _Oh, no._

"She's not only beautiful, but in Professor Lorcan's class she single-handedly _stupefied_ an entire swarm of vampire bats!" he says excitedly. "What do I do, Athena?"

His eyes stare deeply into mine, bearing a bit of shyness and anxiousness. Meanwhile, my heart aches with the thought of telling Rowan about this.

"Well... I... Hmmm..." my thoughts spin. "Just tell her how you feel."

"You make it sound so simple..." he blushes. "I think it would be best if you just talked to Emily for me..."

"I've never seen you this timid before, Bill."

"I've never been... in love before," he says, blushing even more.

 _Fuck._

I run my fingers through my hair, feeling awfully bad for my best friend who has a crush on this ginger moron. Bill is a great guy and a sweet friend, but he's breaking my friend's heart and doesn't even know that.

 _Oh, Rowan. Why have you never said anything?_

"Bill, I don't know..."

"Please, Athena," he looks at me with begging eyes.

I sigh.

Rowan will hate me forever for this.

"Don't worry," I say. "I'll talk to her for you."

 _Oh, God._

 _Where did I get myself into..._


	48. Year 3: Chapter 20 - The Preppy and the

**Introduction:** Hey, guys. I know I said I'd only post once a week, but under the light of recent events I decided to post another one today. I lost a dear friend yesterday and since today's chapter is as fun and outgoing as he was, I think it's a good way to honor his memory. Cado, this is for you.

 **Chapter Twenty – The Preppy and the Promise**

Rowan doesn't notice I'm avoiding her eyes and I feel terribly guilty for that. She even mentions the upcoming Hogsmeade trip and wonders when Bill is finally ask her out. They go to the library to study together on Thursday while I go to my private Potions lesson. There's a big weight over my heart all the time Professor Snape spends explaining me about the many uses of doxy's wings.

The task Bill confided to me seems to be awfully tricky; it's hard to find Emily in between classes, especially because she's usually surrounded by her talkative friends.

 _Jeez, she's not at all like Rowan._

Emily has long luscious chocolate hair and bright blue eyes; she has pale skin and rosy cheeks and is always wearing pink lipstick and pink nail lacquer. Completely opposite of my nerdy Indian best friend.

I start to think I'll never find a moment convenient enough to talk to Emily in private, but I manage to find her alone when I'm heading to Divination class.

"Excuse me," I say as she walks with her apparently expensive bag. "Emily Tyler?"

She looks at me and blinks her long lashes in my direction.

"I am," she says with a melodic voice. "And you're that Cursed Vault kid. Athena Lockhart, right?" I nod. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," I really don't know where to start. "I'm a friend of Bill Weasley and... he... well, he fancies you. And he wants to know how you feel about him."

Emily's eyes widen in surprise.

"Bill Weasley fancies me?" she says. "I don't believe it."

"It's true," I say. "I've never seen him this frazzled."

Her mouth opens in a big smile.

"I'll look like a fool if this is some sort of joke," she says. "Tell me every single thing that Bill said he likes about me."

I get speechless for a moment; I'm not sure if she actually liked the fact that Bill has a crush on her or if she just want some extra ego inflation. I sigh, crossing my arms.

"Believe it, Emily," I say. "He's usually always so tough and cool, but he's an absolute mess because of you."

She covers her mouth with the tips of her polished fingers and snickers a bit, rolling her eyes. That reaction immediately makes me clench my jaw.

"What a prat," she says, dryly.

" _I beg your pardon?_ " I say, a bit too impolitely for my taste, but I just can't help it.

"I mean, he's reasonably handsome, but why would anyone ever date a Weasley?" she says with a bored sigh.

My mouth opens in an expression of disbelief.

"Hey!" I say instantly. "You're talking about my friend!"

She makes an annoying gesture, as if saying my sentence means less than nothing for her.

" _Your friend_ is poor, ill-manered, and complete delusional if he ever though he has a chance with me," she says in a monotonous tone. "Tell Bill I said thank you for sharing his feelings. If nothing else, it was good for a laugh."

I feel my blood boiling. Who does this bitch think she is?

"Bill must just be attracted to your looks," I spit. "Because your personality is _disgusting_!"

"You don't know anything about me."

"And you don't know anything about Bill!" I exclaim. "If you did, you'd know that he's kind, and thoughtful, and always puts others before himself. In other words, he's everything you aren't. Good thing you're not interested. He deserves better than a preppy brainless slag."

"Whatever," she says, sticking up her nose and turning her back on me.

I place my hands on the stairs of the Divination classroom, but something stronger than me makes me grab my wand tightly. I aim at Emily, who's about to turn the corridor. Her perfect ponytail and snobby attitude makes the anger run through my veins.

" _Locomotor Mortis_ ," I say, and her legs instantly glue to each other, making her fall heavily on the stone floor.

With a mischievous giggle, I finally make my way to class.

* * *

It's hard to focus on Trelawney's lesson about Palmistry while I'm still steaming with rage. Ben seems to notice, because he contracts when I give him my hand a little too fast, showing my complete lack of disposition.

I keep on thinking what I'll say to Bill and what his probable reactions will be. It breaks my heart to see his habitual happy face withering into complete frustration. Emily's stupid face keeps popping in my head, her plumped lips whispering words like "poor", "delusional" and "whatever". I close my hands in fists under the table, somehow thankful that I'll be the one to break my friend's heart, and not that awful twit.

Rowan is waiting for us by the stairs, with such a happy smile that I feel my face twisting in an expression of complete dismay.

"What's up with you?" she asks.

"I think she's PMSing," Ben says.

"I'm not PMSing!" I say, sharply.

Ben's eyes widen and he says nothing else until we reach the Courtyard for our free period.

"I spent the whole time with Bill at the library," Rowan says, happily. "He looked so nervous. I wonder if he's going to ask me to go to Madam Puddifoot's with him."

My guts twist when she says that and I feel even worse when Bill comes hopping in our direction, looking dashing and excited as usual.

"Hey guys," he says with an incredibly enthusiastic smile. "Hi again, Rowan."

Rowan blushes a big and blinks her eyes at him.

Again, he's so mesmerized by fuckwit Emily that he doesn't even see the smart sweet girl standing right in front of him.

It's so sad that it makes me wanna cry.

Maybe Ben is right after all.

Maybe _I am_ PMSing.

"Athena, can I talk to you in private?" he asks and I feel lightly nauseated.

I feel Rowan's curious eyes all over me, but she says nothing.

Bill takes me back inside the Clock Tower, directly to the balcony where he rests his back against the wall, already panting.

"So?" he asks, anxiously. "How was it?"

"Damn, Bill," I say, my heart feeling like it's being pressed by a giant hand. "You might want to put your wand down for this."

Just as I feared, his handsome smile withers right in front of me.

"Well," I say, not sure where to begin. "Emily is-"

"Brilliant? And beautiful? And kind? And-"

"And a complete and awful hoe," I sigh, and he looks at me completely baffled.

"What do you mean?" he asks with a frown.

"I mean she isn't interested in you, Bill," I say.

"Oh," his smile vanishes for good.

"You can do so much better than her."

"But she's perfect!"

Shit. This is harder than I anticipated.

"No, Bill. She's not. She's mean and arrogant and just terrible in general."

"Are you positively sure she doesn't like me?"

I sigh, feeling all sorts of feelings inside of me. I feel angry at Emily for rejecting my friend, but also relieved that he won't have to endure such disgusting brat. I feel sad, because Bill has still hope that Emily will like him and also feel sad because Rowan is completely unaware of the whole situation.

Somehow, I feel like I've betrayed her.

"Emily made it very clear," I say at last.

"What did I do wrong?" Bill asks with sorrow and I feel like crying.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Bill," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder in a comforting way. His blue eyes meet mine and they're so full of deception that I feel even sadder.

"It feels like I did everything wrong," he sighs.

Risking to make Rowan hate me forever, something inside me tells me that this is the right thing to do.

"You'll find someone who deserves you, Bill," I say. "Someone who'll appreciate what you have to offer."

His eyes stare intensely into mine.

Damn.

I hope he doesn't think I'm talking about me.

"Someone like... Rowan," I say.

" _Rowan?_ " he says, perplexed.

"Bill, you're so blind," I sigh. "Rowan is completely mad about you. And I know she's younger and nerdy and can be very strange sometimes, but I feel like you're wasting a great opportunity here."

His eyes move to the balcony, where Rowan and Ben are still talking by the Courtyard fountain. The wind blows, making her long ebony hair shake graciously and she even raises a hand to place a lock behind her ear.

"I didn't... I'm..." Bill looks slightly flushed and I start to build hope that he might finally realize she's the one. "I can't, Athena."

I look at him, trying to hide my shock.

"It's not that... I mean... Rowan is the best," he says. "She's sweet and pretty and a very good friend. But I can't."

"Can I ask you why?"

"I'm not sure I should tell..." he says, nervously. "Oh, well... I... I kinda promised someone I would never try anything with her."

"You promised?" I ask. "Promised who?"

He runs his fingers through his hair.

"Well..." he says. "I promised Charlie."

* * *

"CHARLIE?" Rowan exclaims in complete shock when I tell her everything during dinner.

Her eyes move to Gryffindor's table, where Charlie is sitting with Ben and his friend Ethan, and when his eyes meet Rowan's, he blushes and flashes her a sweet-looking smile.

"Oh my God," she says, her eyes turning back at me. "I never... I didn't..."

"Bill gave him the coupon for Madam Puddifoot's," I tell her. "Charlie is going to invite you to go with him tomorrow."

"Holy cow!" she says, crazily blushing. "I... I don't know what to do! And I don't know what to say! And even less what to feel!"

"Naturally, Rowan," I say. "Until now you were in love with his older brother. The real issue here is if you can actually develop feelings for him... or if you feel like you'll be deceiving him."

She stares deeply into her soup, biting her bottom lip. She looks as red as the berry juice inside her glass and I can only imagine what's going on inside her head.

"I... I don't know," she says. "I mean... Charlie is sweet. He's funny and kind and loves dragons... Since when, Athena? Did Bill say?"

"Ever since he escorted you to the Quidditch match," I say with a smile.

"Oh my God," she says, hiding her face on her hands.

"Not so easy, is it?" I tease. "Being someone else's crush."

She seems to blush even more and even uses her napkin as a fan. I risk a look at Charlie and notice he's holding a pink coupon, staring at it with red cheeks. His blue eyes meet mine and he sighs, his freckled face twisting into a bashful expression. I nod at him and he opens a big smile.

Rowan, Tulip and I walk back to the Ravenclaw Tower, talking about all the pranks Tulip and Tonks played while Rita Skeeter was still in the castle.

"We added a piece of Frog Spawn Soap to her tea," Tulip says with a mischievous smile. "It was awesome."

When we're almost reaching the bronze eagle door, we hear rushed footsteps behind us.

"Rowan," Charlie says with reddish cheeks.

Hard to say it's because of the running or if it's because he's embarrassed.

"Hey," Rowan says, blushing too.

I make a signal to Tulip and she immediately understands. The eagle opens its beak to tell us the riddle as we try to ignore Rowan and Charlie's bashful conversation.

"I am the beginning of the end, the end of every place," the eagle says. "I am the beginning of eternity, the end of time and space."

Tulip scratches her chin with a pensive smile.

"You're the letter _e_ ," she says, and the door allows us to pass.

* * *

It takes freaking forever for Rowan to enter the dormitory. Tulip is waiting too, sitting on my bed, showing me her new stock of Belch and Bulbadox Powder.

Rowan bears widened eyes and extremely red cheeks as she falls heavily over her bed, hiding her face on her pillow.

"Row," I say, sitting on the edge of her bed. "What happened?"

She raises her head to look at me.

"I said yes," she says, shyly. "I said I'll go with him to the lunch at Puddifoot's."

I smirk.

"And what took you so long?" I ask. "Were you two _snooooogging_?"

Rowan hides her face again.

"No," she says with a muffled voice. "He spent a long time talking about dragons."

"He was probably nervous," I tell her.

"Rowan and Charlie under a tree," Tulip sings, hopping around the dorm. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Shut up, Tulip!" Rowan says, throwing her pillow right on Tulip's face.

"Oh, Charlie, of course I wanna marry you," she continues, looking at the pillow with fake passion. "Of course I wanna have your ginger babies! Come here. Kiss me, my ginger dragon slayer!"

"I'm gonna kill you!" Rowan says, getting up and running after Tulip.

I remain sitting, laughing until there are tears coming down my face and the hiccups start to torment me.

* * *

As expected, Rowan takes forever to get dressed; she brushes her hair three thousand times and it's having a hard time deciding between her vanilla lip balm or Tulip's cherry lipgloss.

"That depends," Tulip says. "Do you plan on kiiiiissing him?"

Rowan rolls her eyes.

"I plan on throwing you from the Astronomy Tower if you don't stop."

Finally, she decides to wear her fleshly cleaned Weasley sweater, jeans and my pair of black booties.

"Thanks, Athie," she says, brushing her hair again.

"Relax, Row," I say. "It's just a lunch. It's not like you're going to meet his parents."

"Oh my God," she says, her eyes widening in my direction. "What if he wants me to meet his parents?"

I don't go in the same carriage as her; she goes alone with Charlie, while I go with Bill, Ben, Penny, Tulip and Tonks. A little crowded and we feel like sardines in a can, but at least we can look back and check on them.

"I wish I had my Polaroid," I say, thinking about bringing it to Hogwarts for my fourth year.

Rowan and Charlie aren't speaking; they're just sitting across from each other and I have a perfect view of Rowan's bashful face. She's avoiding his eyes, for what I can see.

They both head straight to Madam Puddifoot's, while the rest of us go to Honeydukes.

"A ten galleon gift card," Bill says, looking at the card in his hand. "Oh, well. Let's buy one of each of everything!"

Half an hour later, we leave the shop with bags full of Acid Pops, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Candy Floss, Chocoballs, Chocolate Cauldrons and Frogs, a bunch of Cinnamon Balls, Eyeball Bonanza, Sour Gummy Worms, Peach Rings, Salt Water Taffy and a bunch of other funny looking candy.

We brush the snow from a few benches and sit together to stuff our mouths with candy. I even buy myself a big sundae from Griselda Gwenog's Ice Cream Shop, eating it happily while my friends look at me with weird faces.

"What?" I ask, chewing a big piece of chocolate covered nougat.

"You're eating ice cream," Bill says. "On winter."

"And?" I ask, grabbing the fresh cherry and eating it with a chuffed expression.

Rowan and Charlie spend way longer than just lunch at Puddifoot's. When we walk in front of it, we can see they're happily talking, laughing and having fun.

"Let's go to Zonko's!" Tonks says, excitedly.

Halfway to the joke shop, we meet a pair of bright violet eyes.

"I see you've assembled a gang of your own, Lockhart," Merula says with disdain.

"They're called _friends_ , Merula," I say, dry. "You should give it a try sometime."

"She's going to stab you in the back, you know," she says, indicating Tulip, whose happy face immediately melted into a sad one.

"Say it again, Snyde," Tonks says, raising her wand.

"You don't have the guts," she teases.

"Argh!" Tonks drops her wand on the floor and jumps over Merula, slapping and punching her several times, until Bill finally decides to grab her by the jacket and pull her away.

"You nutter!" Merula says, dusting the snow of her clothes, and running away with her cronies and a bleeding nose.

"You better run, you twit!" Tonks yells, rubbing her sore knuckles.

I turn to look at Tulip, whose eyes are watering. For a minute I think she may be sad, but then her lips curl into an emotive smile.

"Thank you, Tonks," she says, wrapping her arms around Tonks' neck and hugging her tightly.

Then they look at each other with happiness, but also with intensity. I feel Ben's hand grabbing my arm and I know he feels the same.

 _Oh my God._

 _They're gonna kiss._

"Hey, guys," Charlie's voice startles all of us. "What's going on?"


	49. Year 3: Chapter 21 - The Restricted Sect

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you doing? It's been almost a week since my last chapter, so I think it's time to post another one. Year 3 has a total of 24 chapters, so we're almost reaching the end of Athena's third year. But do not worry. I'm almost finishing writing Year 4, even though I have a few unfinished chapters, because I want to continue playing to fully understand some characters' motivations so they don't seem vague or poorly written. Anyway, I hope you enjoy today's chapter! I wanna send a big shout out to **James** , **Rina** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **Vaughn Tyler** , **Son of Whitebeard** and **Andouille** , who left sweet reviews on the last chapters. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Twenty One – The Restricted Section**

 _Dear grandpa,_

 _A lot has happened since my last letter._

 _Our match against Slytherin is coming near and I confess I_ _'m dreading it. All their players look like humongous trolls and I'm afraid this may be my end. Nevertheless, I'm practicing real hard so I can locate the Snitch fast before I'm hit by any bludgers or Slytherin players._

 _Rita Skeeter showed up as a special guest last week. She spent the whole week observing us, trying to find the most promising witch or wizard in a very stupid competition she created and that Dumbledore agreed to. In the end, after spending days saying I was the favorite of the competition – not quite sure why, hence I'm still a third grader – she tricked me into choosing the winner. I chose my good friend Bill Weasley and Rita Skeeter said she preferred if I chose Merula._

 _What bothered me the most is that she seemed to be threatening me. She said she knows about Jake, that's he's alive and being held captive somewhere, and that she'll soon write me letters with instructions I must follow. No need to say I don't trust her at all._

 _We're still trying to locate the next Cursed Vault entrance, but we still remain unsuccessful. I think I'll take a look around Jake's room one more time._

 _To make things worse, I found out Rita Skeeter is dad's secret affair; the one who led to mum's suicide. Apparently dad's been providing information about us and she seems to know a whole lot about everything. Again, I do not trust her and will never accept her as my stepmom. Dad may do whatever he thinks it's best for his life, but this is starting to affect me and I'm not very okay with that._

 _A piece of wisdom or some advice would do me some good right now._

 _I'll wait anxiously for your response._

 _Your loving granddaughter,_

 _Athena._

Twilight seems happy to deliver my letter, gently poking my hand with his beak, and spreading his wings to the beautiful winter air.

The Quidditch match against Slytherin is just around the corner: booked to Saturday, February 7th. I feel awful butterflies in my stomach every time I think about it, though I believe I'm well prepared and have good chances of helping Ravenclaw win.

No one said anything about Tonks and Tulip's almost kiss, though it didn't seem to affect their friendship. If anything, they seem to be even closer, driving Filch nuts with all the Bulbadox Powder they spread all over his office. Perhaps I'm precipitating, thinking that there may be something going on between them. Maybe it's just that awkward kind of friendship... I mean... Rowan do sleeps in my bed sometimes.

I'm beginning to lose hope that I'll ever find the entrance to the next vault. I have to use all my free time in order to do all my homework and essays, so it's hard to waste time wandering around the library, looking for something I don't even know what's supposed to be; and with my Potions private lessons, I have little time to spare.

Professor Snape teaches me how to breed Doxycide, a black-colored and foul smelling potion.

"What is it used for?" he asks me, separating the ingredients.

"To paralyze Doxies," I say. "It allows the user to safely remove them without fear of being bitten."

"And do you have any idea why are we brewing this particular potion today?" he raises his brows at me.

I squint my eyes at the empty cauldron.

"I'll be bold and assume Professor Lorcan accidentally allowed a few Doxies to escape," I say.

"Precisely," he says with a vexed expression. "Now it's up to me to clean his bloody mess."

"Bloody mess, indeed," I add and he seems to smirk.

"Now if you please," he says. "Start the potion."

I begin by adding the Bundimun acid, which is probably what gives this potion its awful reek. I quickly stir it, watching its disgusting greenish yellow color mix to the solution-base.

Professor Snape is grinding the Streeler shells next to me, looking very concentrated. I keep on wanting to kick myself for always forgetting to talk to him about Penny's potion. I swallow hard, wondering if it will be better to just do it.

"Professor," I say as he adds the powdered shells to the mixture. "There's something I'd like to discuss."

He gives me his usual intense stares, as if he's reading my mind. I turn my eyes to the bubbling cauldron and try to ignore his piercing eyes.

"Last year," I say, not sure from where to start. "On Halloween, I-"

"I do not wish to discuss that day, Miss Lockhart," he says, dryly.

"I know," I sigh. "It's not about that I want to talk about."

"Go on," he says, chopping the also foul-smelling dragon liver. I'm not sure if it's the potion or the subject of the conversation that's making me feel nauseated.

"Something happened with Penny during summer," I tell.

"You mean the werewolf attack," he says.

"You know about that?" my eyes widen.

"Obviously," he says. "The Headmaster and the faculty were informed, in case she happened to suffer from post-traumatic stress... or happened to steal ingredients from my private storage."

My mouth opens in shock.

"You... you knew about that too?" I shriek.

"Of course I knew, Miss Lockhart," he hisses.

"So you also know I helped her," I say, sadly, and he nods.

"And I also know you prevented her from drinking it."

I raise my eyes to look at him.

"I'm awfully sorry," I say. "If you still plan on punishing us, I beg you not to punish her. I'll gladly take all the blame."

"Even if it means months of detention and losing a lot of house points?" he asks.

I nod.

"Focus on the potion, Miss Lockhart," he says, adding the dragon liver.

"But-"

"I know you came to my office to tell me about this," he says. "And though it displeases to have students stealing from my storeroom, I do not blame Miss Haywood for desperately wanting to forget dreadful events... or blame you for helping her."

Again, I look at his with surprised eyes.

"Still, sir," I say. "It was wrong. And I'm deeply sorry."

"Save your apologies, Miss Lockhart," he says. "You're already being punished enough, spending your free time enduring my presence."

"Hardly, Professor," I say with a soft smile. "I really enjoy these moments."

His raven eyes crinkle at the corners and he releases a subtle chuckle. He then adds a dash of Hemlock essence to the potion and I mix it happily, glad to finally lose the weight from my shoulders, and also glad for this few moments of bonding.

* * *

The match against Slytherin arrives with a strong cold wind blowing from the South. I feel ready and less nervous now that I know what to expect. I put on my blue uniform and head to the pitch, broom in hand, feeling confident with Holly's necklace touching my chest's skin, for I put it inside my clothes.

Every Slytherin player seems to be big and troll-like. Their captain, a bulky seventh year guy named Noah Johnson, shakes Isaac's hand effusively and they mount on their brooms. My eyes wander to their beaters, Nick and John, who seem to be bigger than their captain. I take a deep breath before taking my place above my fellow companions, staring at my enemy seeker, a boy my year named Caleb.

Madam Hooch releases the balls and I immediately rush to circle the pitch, my eyes desperately looking for the small golden ball. Caleb, differently from Nate, doesn't follow me or flash me smirks and winks. He flies to the opposite side, almost being hit by a bludger thrown by Andre.

I decide to fly closer to the ground, my hands almost touching the lawn, when my eyes see something shiny floating right above the central line. My broom seems to know what to do, because I find myself flying to it with maximum speed, feeling the chilly wind almost hurting my face, until I wrap my fingers around the cold ball and allow myself to fall graciously over the lawn.

"Athena Lockhart grabs the Golden Snitch!" Daniel yells. "Ravenclaw wins with less than ten minutes on the field!"

My team rushes to the ground and Isaac raises my over his shoulders, as the boys start to sing in unison:

"BLONDIE! BLONDIE!" they sing, and the whole Slytherin team seems to be looking at us with murderous faces.

We head straight to the Great Hall, where a big owl is waiting for me in my usual spot.

Twilight looks at me with his tired yellow eyes and I run my fingers over his feathers. He drops a letter before going away.

"Come on!" Isaac shouts. "Let's go to our Common Room and celebrate!"

We allow a few of our friends from other houses to enter, and soon enough there is smuggled food from the kitchens and big jars of juice circling around our Common Room.

"Wow," Ben says, astonished. "This room is way nicer than ours."

I grab a glass full of ice cold juice and sit in an armchair close to the window. The letter seems to burn in my hands and I open it anxiously, quickly finding my grandpa's well-known handwriting.

 _My sweet little witch,_

 _Do not fear the scary Slytherin players; they're nothing but big harmless snakes. I'm sure you'll do great and grant Ravenclaw another victory._

 _Rita Skeeter is a despicable person and I'm glad you've come to know that. The fact that's she's threatening you brings me to believe that she might have something to do with the Cursed Vaults, Jake's disappearance and the mysterious messages you've found in Hogwarts. She has wicked ways to get what she wants and isn't afraid to use villainy to find the ends to her means. I have a few good friends at the Daily Prophet, so I'll make sure someone is watching her while she threatens to be watching you._

 _As we have discussed before, there are corrupts inside the Ministry, as well as inside the newspaper office. I wouldn't be surprised if Jacob's disappearance weren't linked to the both of them._

 _About the next vault inside the library, try to take a look into the Restricted Section. That place holds a bunch of mysteries and dangers and I have strong reasons to believe it might hide the entrance to the next vault._

 _I have already informed our lawyers about Rita Skeeter involvement with your father and it would be of major importance in our fight to get your custody._

 _Please, be safe while looking for the vaults. Stay close to your friends and trust your magic. I'm happy to hear Bill Weasley is your friend; his father is a great man._

 _All my love,_

 _Grandpa._

I discreetly hand the letter to Rowan, who reads it with widened eyes. She looks at me with concern, biting her bottom lip, but quickly gives me back the letter when Charlie approaches us.

"Great game, Athena!" he says. "I'll have to train hard to beat you in May."

"Good thing you know that, huh, Weasley?" Isaac says while passing by us, messing Charlie's hair.

"Did someone said kick Gryffindor's arse?" Matt says, waltzing behind Isaac.

I roll my eyes and smile at Charlie.

"Hmmm... Rowan?" Charlie says, looking at Rowan with flushed cheeks. "Would you like some tart?"

His shyness is freaking adorable. Rowan seems to blush too when she accepts the blueberry tart, and when their hands touch, I feel like I'm watching a very cheesy movie.

"Hey, Athena!" Bill calls from the other side of the room. "Come here!"

Rowan looks at me with wide eyes, probably too timid to be around Charlie by herself, but I don't care. I get up and walk to Bill, receiving a wink as I approach.

"Let's not waste this opportunity of leaving the two alone," he smirks.

"So," I say, taking a sip from my juice. "What's it like to be a Prefect, Bill? Have you given out a lot of house points?"

"We mainly take points away as punishment to stop kids from acting like gits," he says with a tone of importance.

That night, when we lay down to sleep, Rowan doesn't want to talk about her "intimate" moment with Charlie. Instead, she reads my grandpa's letter again, scratching her chin.

"The Restricted Section," she says. "Of course. It's a natural hiding place. They keep all of the books on Dark Magic there. I've had dreams and nightmares about reading those books."

"I've heard some of the books can jump right off the shelf and bite your face," I say.

"You need a specially signed note from a teacher to look at the Restricted Section. Otherwise, we'd be in serious trouble," she tells me.

I smile.

It happens I know just the teacher who'll help me with that.

* * *

"The Restricted Section?" Professor Snape says with distrust, when I ask if he could sign the form for me. "Why do you want to go in there?"

"I've heard about this book," I say. "Moste Potente Potions. It is mentioned in our standard potions book. I just wanted to study it."

"Why?" he asks. "You're planning on brewing Polyjuice Potion, aren't you?"

"What? No! I just want to learn more about advanced potions."

His face seems to relax a bit. He grabs his black quill and signs his name. Thankfully, he doesn't stare intensely into my eyes like he usually does; like he's reading my mind.

"While you're in there," he says. "Bring this book to me," and writes the name of another book on the formulary.

I head there on the next morning, right after Charms class, in a sudden free period because Isaac cancelled the Quidditch practice due to the fact he and Matt got the flu. The library is cold and pretty much empty. Madam Pince looks at me with suspicious eyes, but when she sees Professor Snape's signature, she grabs a heavy key and walks with me to the Restricted Section.

She opens the big padlock and allows me to enter.

"You have ten minutes," she says, leaving me completely alone.

First, I look for the book I said I wanted to study and grab the book Professor Snape asked for. Then I use the remaining time to look around.

There's an odd atmosphere in here; sinister and cold. I run my fingertips over the spines of the books, some of them with gemstones on them, not sure what I'm looking for. Some of the books are cold to the touch and some seem to almost burn my fingers. I feel oddly attracted by a handful of them, but I manage to ignore them and keep on searching.

I start to feel weird when I stop in front of a particular shelf; it's full with books about Dark Magic and I feel the same draught from the Icy Corridor. I draw my wand, discreetly aiming it at the shelf.

" _Revelio_ ," I say, no louder than a whisper, but nothing seems to happen.

Though the spell doesn't work, it becomes clear to me that this might be the entrance Jake was talking about. It is just like the one from the Vanished Stairs, with the cold breeze coming right from it. There's another strange feeling building inside me: like I'm very close to my brother.

My time ends and I hand the books to Madam Pince so she can write down I have them. I put them carefully inside my bag, ready to tell Rowan and the rest of the gang everything I felt inside the Restricted Section.

Later that day, when I'm heading to the Potions classroom, I am stopped by a familiar hissy voice.

"Read any good books lately, Lockhart?" Merula asks with a smirk.

"Sorry?" I ask her, wondering what she's up to.

"I saw you in the library," she says. "In the Restricted Section. I suppose you think that's where you'll find the next vault."

"No, Merula," I sigh. "That's where I'll find knowledge."

"Did Tulip already stab you in the back?" she raises a brow.

"You're only saying that because Tonks isn't here to punch your lights out," I say. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lesson to attend."

I leave the book Professor Snape asked for over his table – a heavy book called 'Potions from the Dark Ages' – and I head to my cauldron. Merula spends the whole class flashing me evil smiles and by the time the lesson ends, I feel like punching her myself.

The impression I felt in the Restricted Section seems to haunt me all night. I roll over my bed a bunch of times, thinking nonstop about what may be lurking in between those books.

Maybe it's time to visit my brother's secret room one more time.


	50. Year 3: Chapter 22 - Tough Enough

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! Another long week without posting, but here I am with another chapter. I'm almost finishing writing year four and I'm also pretty excited to write year 5. Things are so incredibly interesting! What are your theories so far? I've heard people saying that they think Merula will die on year 5. Though I'm not really fond of her, I really hope it isn't true. What do you think? Also, I wanna send a big shout out to **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **Sonny Daniels** , **James** , **Vaughn Taylor** and **Rina** for the sweet comments on the last chapter. I hope you enjoy the 22nd chapter. Just two more to go! As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **UPDATE!** I just realized we've reached our 50th chapter! Yay! Thank you so, so much for everything!

 **Chapter Twenty Two – Tough Enough**

Tulip and Rowan agree to go with me before the Valentine's Day breakfast. Even before eight, there seems to be a lot of couples snogging in the corridors and in dark corners of the castle. And though it has nothing to do with the atmosphere of the day, Merula seems to be carelessly strolling through the Clock Tower, pretending she's not ready to strike us with a spell and ravage my brother's room.

We head to the tapestry, wand in hand, and Tulip and Rowan watch my back as I open the heavy padlock. Merula gives us one last nasty look before we lock ourselves inside.

"Why is she spying on us?" Rowan asks.

"She saw me at the Restricted Section," I tell them. "We have to be extra careful now."

Messy as I remembered, Jake's room seems to be covered by a thick layer of dust. Thankfully, there's no boggart lurking in the dark, and we sit to go through all his notes one more time.

I'm not quite sure what I'm looking for; there are random scribbles and rushed spirals drawn in the corner of some pages, there are runes mixed with regular letters, a few warning messages and even a few odd doodles. I don't know how any of these things will give us a clue about how to enter the next vault.

"I found something," Rowan says, pushing the glasses back and looking intensively to a piece of ragged parchment. "The book opens the way. What does it mean?"

"The book opens the way..." I think for a while, quietly thinking about all the thousands of books on the library and the dark ones in the Restricted Section. What if one of the books I took it's the one to open the vault? What if Professor Snape requested that specific book because he, as he appears to always do, read my mind and knows what's I'm up to and that what his way of preventing me from entering?

"The book," Rowan looks at me. "You found a book and a broken wand inside the last vault."

"Of course!" I exclaim. "Jake has been leaving me traces all this time! That makes me wonder what his broken wand does..."

"But now that we have this clue, it will still be dangerous to go with Merula and her cronies following us," Rowan says.

"Not if we manage to separate them," Tulip says with a pensive expression.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Ismelda thinks she's tough, but she's mainly useless," she says. "Merula is definetely the most skilled, but she wouldn't be anyone without her bodyguard."

"Barnaby," I say.

"Precisely. We need to bring him to our side," Tulip says.

"Alright. Will you talk to him?" I ask her.

"No," she says. "You will."

"Me?" I shriek. "Why me? He's been threatening to kick my butt for months!"

"Empty threats," she says. "Barnaby is great will spells, he's strong and knows a hell lot about magical creatures, but he would never hurt you."

"I still don't think that's a very good id-"

"You're sweet," she continues. "And kind. The complete opposite of Merula. Barnaby used to tell me he was tired of being bossed around and called names and stuff. You can lure him with your delicacy."

I frown, slowly releasing a sigh.

"Fine."

"I'll let him know you want to talk to him in private," she smiles. "Perhaps in our next trip to Hogsmeade."

Merula is still waiting on the outside of the room when we get out, but she doesn't attempt anything. While we walk away, Rowan makes a gesture for Merula to know she's been watched, pointing two fingers at Merula and then at her own eyes, repeating it a couple of times. Merula says nothing; she simply stands there, looking completely lost.

I almost feel sorry for her, but the Valentine's Day breakfast is so cheerful, colorful and sparkling that I immediately erase her from my mind. There are heart shaped waffles and pancakes, pink lemonade, red velvet cupcakes and a bunch of other cute looking food. I serve myself with a pile of hot waffles and am about to stuff them all in my mouth when a Great Grey Owl enters the Great Hall and drops a beautiful wild flower and a card right on Rowan's lap.

She cheeks turn bright red as she looks at the beautiful pink flower and grabs the card to open them. Her eyes move from side to side as she reads it and I begin to feel awfully curious about its content. She blinks a few times before turning around to look at Gryffindor's table. My eyes move there too and I notice Charlie waving effusively at her.

I release a giggle and she throws a blueberry in my face.

"Let me read it," I say, reaching out.

"No," she says, bashful.

" _Rowan!_ "

"Okay..."

The bubblegum pink card smells like sugary candy and Charlie's handwriting is very basic, mainly consisting of simple capital letters.

.

 _Rowans belong to the Roses family_

 _Their red pomes are what Winged Bearded Dragons eat_

 _These dragons sleep under the Rowans' canopy_

 _Maybe it's just a trick of fate_

 _Maybe it's meant to be_

 _._

It's so stinking cute that I instantly begin to laugh. Rowan pulls the card from my hand with an offended expression, but I find it hard to explain myself, because her flushed cheeks makes me laugh even more.

"Sorry," I say at last, sipping my pink lemonade.

"Athena," Chester's hand lay on my shoulder and he flashes me a gentle smile. "Willing for some learning today?"

"Sure," I shrug. It's not like I have a boyfriend to spend the day with.

Rowan, on the other hand...

"Would you like to... walk around with me?" Charlie asks her as I'm leaving the castle with Chester.

I do not stay to hear her answer, but deep inside I hope she says yes and enjoy the day with the ginger cutie that clearly is head over heels for her.

"What was that all about?" Chester asks as we find a good and sunny place to practice, near Rubeus' hut.

"Oh," I say with a smile. "Just Charlie and Rowan's beginning of something more."

He giggles.

"Alright," he says. "Today I'll teach you the Summoning Charm. It's a very useful spell and can be used in countless situations."

The spell's incantation is pronounced _Accio_ and we spend the morning practicing it with some huge carrots Rubeus carelessly left inside of a big basket. At first, all I'm able to do is make the carrots move a bit and even make them fall from the basket.

"Visualize it coming towards you," he says. "Focus. That's very important with any given spell. Without focus, spells are only funny words."

I squint my eyes at the carrots, imagining they coming towards me, their big orange bodies flying in the air in my hand's direction. I aim my wand at them and feel a slight tingle in my fingers.

" _Accio!"_ I enunciate and a particularly large carrot comes flying at me, hitting me right on my forehead.

I fall backwards, feeling an awful pain all over my head, and Chester rushes to see if I'm okay.

"Hey, blondie," he says, kneeling next to me. "Are you alright?"

I blink a few times before answering.

"Yeah," I say. "I guess so."

"We can continue tomorrow," he smiles. "Now come on. Let's see what on the Valentine's Day lunch menu."

* * *

Rowan refuses to speak about her first Valentine's Day with Charlie, though Tulip hasn't given up on making her feel more embarrassed.

"Oh, Charlie, of course I'd like to go on a romantic dragon ride with you," she said, pretending to swoon.

Charlie, on the other hand, seems to be incredibly happy to spend all of his free time around Rowan and even found his way to her side in Charms class. I'm still not sure if she's enjoying all the attention, mainly because she doesn't say anything. I'm trying really hard to respect her space, but the curiosity is killing me.

Speaking of killing, I'm not sure if Merula is aware of my little encounter with Barnaby. She keeps on looking at me with wrath and I'm not sure anymore if that's simply her new stare or if she's actually angry with me. But I confess I'm not particularly rejoicing to have a private conversation with Barnaby; not that my feelings would make Merula less mad.

I meet him at the Three Broomsticks, in a small table in one of the reclusive parts of the bar, right behind a pillar. He's already there when I arrive, bearing his usual confused green eyes and moving a box of mints in between his fingers. I pull the chair and sit, his emerald eyes studying me carefully.

"Tulip promised me a box of Peppermint Toads if I talked to you," he says. "What do you want?"

I fix my hair – no idea why – and entwine me fingers over the table.

"Butterbeer, my darlings?" Madam Rosmerta goes ahead.

"Yes. Two, please," I say.

She leaves two big mugs of frothy Butterbeer and leaves again, also leaving a very heavy atmosphere over us. I start to randomly move my fingers and Barnaby keeps staring at my hands with a small frown.

"What are you doing?" he asks. "Some kind of nonverbal spell? Are you going to hex me?"

"What?" I say, instantly stopping and resting my hands one on top of the other. "No. I'm sorry. I'm... just a little nervous."

"Why?" he asks, curious.

"Well," I'm no idea how to start this conversation. "Barnaby... do you like working for Merula?"

He frowns again, taking a gulp from his Butterbeer.

"I don't work for her," he says. "We're partners."

"Okay," I sigh. "Has she ever let you make a decision? Does she ever share her plans with you? Has she ever thanked you for anything?"

His green eyes squint and he looks utterly confused.

"No... Not really."

I take a sip from my Butterbeer before continuing.

"I want you to work with me instead of Merula, Barnaby," I say. "And when I say me, I mean my friends and I."

"Why do you think I can help you?" he says, not looking at all like he's offended or angry with my proposal.

"I know how hard it is to find and enter a vault," I say. "I've heard you're the most powerful wizard in our year."

He remains silent and I begin to wonder if I'm saying all the wrong things.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

"I'm thinking about your words," he says, finally.

"I won't boss you around," I tell him. "I won't call you names. I'm not like Merula. I just want your help. I... _need you._ "

He seems to blush a little bit and his mouth curls into a big smile.

"I like you, Athena," he says. "We should fight."

I almost choke with my Butterbeer.

"What?"

"I need to prove I'm tough enough to help you and you need to prove that you're tough enough to be my partner. If you beat me in a duel, I'll ditch on Merula and help you enter the next vault," he says, very quickly

I blink a few times to make sure I'm hearing him right. He doesn't seem to be lying or dragging my into some sort of trap... If anything, it seems like he's really excited to duel me. He drinks long gulps of his Butterbeer and smiles.

"I love Butterbeer," he says. "They say it heals bruises and broken bones."

"Who says that?" I ask, confused.

"I can't remember," he says, scratching his chin. "I'm sure someone probably said that."

I snicker, but my smile fades when he rests his mug on the table and glues his green eyes in mine. I instantly begin to feel my cheeks burning.

"Hmmm... well... how did you... become friends with Merula?" I ask, breaking eye contact.

"Oh," he says, leaning back a bit, in a very careless way. "We have a lot in common. Both of our parents were Death Eaters."

"Really?" I ask, pretending I didn't already know about that.

"Why are you so surprised?" he asks. "Everyone knows Slytherins have the most interesting childhoods."

"Do you... want to talk about them?" I ask. "About your parents?"

"You'll probably think my whole family is mad," he says with an embarrassed smile.

"You can tell me," I say, trying to project reassurance in my voice. If Barnaby and I are to be friends, he must know he can trust me. "If anyone can relate, it's me."

"Were your parents Death Eaters too?" he asks.

"What? No... But... Well, you know the rumors about my brother and... well... how my mum killed herself... and now my dad is dating Rita Skeeter."

He drums his fingertips over the wooden table, looking a bit out of place.

"Anyway," I say, a little embarrassed. "Tell me about them."

"Well," he starts. "I met You-Know-Who."

My jaw drops.

"You really met him?"

"I saw him," he says. "My dad met with him at our house when I was just a little kid."

"Were you scared?"

"At first. But my dad admired him. He told me that if I could become as powerful as the Dark Lord, I could do anything," he tells me. "I've spent my entire life trying to get as strong as possible. Even after my dad was gone."

"I'm sorry," I say, kindly.

"Me too," he says. "For your mother."

He drinks the rest of his beverage and opens a smile.

"Well, then," he says. "Is there anything I need to know? The earlier I know what I need to know, the better chance I'll have of knowing it."

I tell his the necessary he needs to know; I don't feel like sharing absolutely everything, because I'm still not sure I can trust him. Still, his bright green eyes make me feel extremely uneasy, so I avoid them every time I can.

As I have done in previous time, I meet him on Sunday, behind the Greenhouses, for our illegal duel. He seems to be very thrilled with the prospect of dueling me, fiercely walking over the grass until a calculated stop in front of me. We bow and he smirks at me before raising his wand.

Flashes of light emanate from both our wands as we cast spell after spell, blocking them at every time, automatically moving our feet so we remain standing.

It's an exhaustive duel in general; Barnaby is tough and his spells are slightly stronger than the average. He also seems to have fair control of his movements and his pronunciation is clean and doubtless. His eyes also have something of determination and they flash dauntless sparks in my direction every time he casts a spell.

" _Protego!_ " I keep on saying to prevent being hit by a particularly strong spell.

He seems to be getting closer every time the glimmering lights dissipate and before I have time to realize, his wand is touching my throat.

"Give up?" he says with confidence and a broad smile.

"Never," I say, but he doesn't seem to notice my wand aiming at his stomach. " _Everte Statum._ "

He's thrown backwards with great strength, even though I just said the spell in my regular tone. He falls on the grass with a great clashing sound, laying there completely breathless. I walk to him and offer my hand, even though I know I have no strength to help him get up.

"Thanks," he says. "Wow, Lockhart. You're really something."

I feel like I'm blushing again.

"No need to call me Lockhart, Barnaby," I say. "Call me Athena."

"Okay," he smiles. " _Athena._ How did you become so strong? You're... quite small."

I giggle nervously.

"Well, I... I study a lot," I say. "We could do it. Study together."

"Really?" he asks with a very chuffed expression. "I'd like that."

He then wraps his arm around my neck in a friendly way, though when he does it my heart immediately begins to pound like crazy, and we go back to the castle for a well-deserved lunch.


	51. Year 3: Chapter 23 - The Vault of Fear

**Introduction:** Hi, everyone! How are you all doing? I decided to post today because this week is going to be really busy. I have a project to finish and a field trip at the end of the week, so I don't think I'll have much time to post during the week. This is the second from the last chapter and we're almost over with Year Three. Did you like Athena's third year? Tell me how you felt about it, 'cause I'd love to read your opinion. I also wanna send a big hug to **Sonny Daniels** , who left a great comment on my last chapter. In addition, I wanna thank you guys for the almost 20.000 views, the 38 of you who clicked Favorite and the 55 of you who are following. Thank you so, so much! Don't forget to follow me on Instagram, because I'll be participating on Yantarnii's Inktober about Hogwarts Mystery. It's at jillklein dot ff and I'm also posting my The Sims 4 HM characters. It's super fun to play with them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy today's chapter. As usual, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Twenty Three – The Vault of Fear**

Barnaby proves to be a very nice guy to be around and quite a gentleman as well. He offers to carry the books I pick on the library till the table we're using; he willingly opens the flasks I can't open during Potions class; and sometimes offers his scarf when it seems like I'm too cold. I'm still not sure how to behave around such chivalry and tend to blush every time he makes something like this.

Merula, on the other hand, doesn't seem happy at all to lose another friend. Her violet eyes burn with assassin intensity and she makes an extra effort to hit me with her bag every single time she walks by me. It makes me feel a little sad for her, having only Ismelda to talk to, but if she had been a good friend from the start, Barnaby wouldn't trade sides so easily.

Before I realize, the beginning of spring falls upon Hogwarts, bringing blooming flowers and a delicious fresh aroma to the castle. With no snow or cold around, everyone seems to be extra cheerful and even Rowan seems to be more relaxed having Charlie around.

I've been carrying my brother's book everywhere, just in case. We have been studying, researching and practicing for whatever we may find inside the vault and also coming up with the entire alphabet in plans, in case they all go wrong.

"Okay," Tulip says while we're at the library, her voice barely a whisper. "Plan Q: we use the Body-Bind Curse in everyone that comes in our way and then-"

"That's an awful plan," Rowan says, straightening her back when Charlie hops into the library. "We can talk about this later."

On March 21st, the entire castle is sparkling in red and gold, and in yellow and black. The Gryffindor _versus_ Hufflepuff match brings everyone to a cheerful spirit and even Rowan is wearing Charlie's Gryffindor hat.

"This is so embarrassing," she says, trying to fix her hair that's falling under the huge top hat.

"You're his girlfriend, Rowan," Tulip says, pinning a big Gryffindor brooch in one side of her chest and another one of Hufflepuff on the other. "Live with it."

"First of all, I'm not his girlfriend," she hisses. "I'm a girl and I'm his friend, but I'm not his girlfriend."

"Denial," Tulip sighs. "That's so sad."

"Why are you wearing two brooches after all?" she asks. "You can't root for two teams at the same time."

"Of course I can!" Tulip says. "And then I'll be happy whatever the final score is. After all, Bill and Ben are Gryffindors and they are our friends. And Penny and Tonks too, and they are Hufflepuffs. It's only fair that I treat them equally."

Ben is wearing the t-shirt I gave him for Christmas, looking very happy while we head to the pitch. When we're halfway there, Ben's smile vanishes when Bill stops us, looking quite apprehensive.

"Did you see who's going to watch the game?" he says. "Madam Pince!"

"Really?" I exclaim, feeling my stomach twisting. "That means the library is unguarded?"

"Correct," he says. "All our teachers are watching the match too. With the exception of Snape, obviously."

"Are you suggesting that we-"

"Enter the next vault," he says, firmly. "Right now."

Ben shrieks, his face twisting in an expression of pure terror. Tulip and Tonks exchange accomplice smirks.

"I'll be around," Tonks says. "I've brought my arsenal... just in case."

"But Charlie," Rowan cries. "He's the seeker and he-"

"Will be very disappointed if you miss his game," I sigh. "Go watch it, Row. I'll feel better if you're not in danger."

"Are you kidding me?" she says. "Like I'd trade going on adventure with you to go to a Quidditch match... Frankly. I'll tell Charlie I had cramps or something."

"He definetely won't ask any questions about that, I'm sure," Bill smiles.

I feel nervous and unprepared while we rush through the completely empty and silent corridors, straight to the library. Once again, we're breaking the rules while everyone is watching a Quidditch game.

To our complete surprise, Madam Pince left the library completely unlocked and when we approach the Restricted Section, I begin to feel very nauseated.

"Here," Penny says, handing me a small potion flask. "It's a Draught of Peace. It will keep you calm."

The citrusy liquid instantly brings me extreme relaxation and all my fears seem to vanish. I draw my wand, wondering if a simple _Alohomora_ will open the padlock and, for my astonishment, it does.

"I've always thought this lock was enchanted," I say. "Like yours, Tulip."

"Apparently Madam Pince doesn't think the students are stupid enough to venture into the Restricted Section," she says with a smirk.

"I'll be outside," Tonks says. "Just in case."

She disappears on the outside of the library and the rest of us draw our wands before opening the heavy metal doors.

"Well, well, well," Merula's voice makes us turn around with uneasy hearts. "What do we have here?"

She comes out from the shadows, followed by a very creepy looking Ismelda. Apparently they're been waiting for us all this time.

"What do you want, Merula?" Barnaby says, standing ahead of us.

"I want what's inside the Cursed Vault, you numpty," she spits. "Same as you, Lockhart. Just for a much less pitiful reason."

"And I just wanna watch you all bleed," Ismelda says in a hissy voice.

We all aim our wands at them and Merula's violet eyes don't move away from mine.

" _Everte Statum!_ " Ismelda casts, hitting Barnaby straight on his chest. He's pushed back, falling heavily over the floor.

However, he quickly stands up and points his wand at them.

"Get out of the way, you glorified troll!" Merula shouts.

"No," he says firmly. "I don't take orders from you anymore," he then looks at us. "Go. I'll hold them back."

"But Barnaby," I say, worried.

"Go!" he exclaims, and Rowan pulls me into the Restricted Section.

Once inside, though I'm feeling very calm, I know I must hurry.

"The book opens the way," I recite. "Look for missing books on the shelves!"

I ignore the places where the books I removed should be and we all desperately look for any spaces we could stick my brother's book. It all seems to lead to the same particular shelf where I felt the cold draught coming from.

"Here," Rowan says, pointing to an empty space between two big Dark Arts books.

I promptly stick Jake's book in there and the bookcase instantly moves upwards, revealing a heavy double wood door.

"I got rid of Merula and Ismelda!" Barnaby says, rushing in our direction. "But if I know them, they'll run straight to Snape."

I shiver, wondering if my Potions teacher will be too angry or too disappointed at me; or both. It hurts me that he'll know I'm doing all sorts of reckless stuff once again.

"Wow," Barnaby gasps, staring at the big doors.

Rowan points her wand at the door.

" _Alohomora_ ," and the door makes a clicking unlocking sound. "Let's go."

We open the doors, entering a room that – for my surprise – looks just like the previous vault. The heavy doors close behind us and the fire on the torches don't seem to bring any heat to our hearts and bodies.

The room has the same hexagonal shape, the same pattern on the floor, the same suits of armors all around and the same structure right in the middle, with the same ethereal yellow light shining on the inside. The only thing that is, in fact, different, are the many ghost-like shapes moving around the room, shaped like bats, spiders, snakes, dragons and demons.

Ben immediately comes closer to me, panting, looking completely terrified.

"Did the other vault look like this?" Tulip asks with trembling voice.

"Yes, but no," I answer. "Not nearly this terrifying."

"I don't like this at all," Ben cries.

"I think the curse remains unbroken," Bill says, wand in hand.

The atmosphere in here seems to be gloomier and scarier than on the previous vault. On the other hand, this room isn't nearly as cold.

" _Nox_ ," a sibilant voice says, seeming to come from every suit of armor around us.

"Oh, no," Barnaby shrieks.

The room goes completely dark, except for something that looks like water, covering every inch of the room. There's no floor, no watching suits of armor, no dome in the middle; there's only dark cold water, covering the floor and the walls, the ceiling looking like an endless black hole.

Right in front of us, smoke starts to rise from the water, twisting like a typhoon, glowing in a supernatural shade of red, until six tall and sinister looking men appear; their cold and evil eyes seem to steal the effect of Penny's potion from my body.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " the man in the center says, aiming directly at me.

My entire view goes blank, like I'm lost in a white immensity, and I begin to feel completely cold and scared. My heart seems to be beating out of time and my voice seems to be lost somewhere inside me.

My vision slowly starts to come back and an automatic scream comes out from my throat when I absorb the scene unrolling in front of me.

The six You-Know-Who are holding my friends captive, but the entire thing seems to be frozen. I notice one of them looking at Rowan with murderous eyes, aiming his wand at her, and her face twisted in complete horror.

My eyes wander from her to Penny and then to Bill and Ben, and then to Tulip and Barnaby. They all have pure dread in their eyes and Ben even has tears running down his cheeks.

I tighten the grip around my wand, taking deep breaths while my heart beats desperately inside my chest.

 _They're boggarts._

 _That's all they are._

 _There aren't six You-Know-Who._

 _They're just boggarts._

It takes all of me to point my wand to the man standing closer to me, the one who's threatening Rowan.

" _Riddikulus!_ " I shout and the evil man instantly turns into the same dancing clown from the Greenhouse.

"Athie!" Rowan cries, apparently coming out from her trance. Her dark brown eyes are a waterfall of tears and she wraps her arms around me in a desperate hug.

"Let's free our friends!" I say, but she's shaking too much to have a good grip on her wand. I rush to the next man, aiming his wand at Penny. " _Riddikulus!"_

I do it four more times, releasing Tulip, Ben, Bill and Barnaby from their dreadful nightmares, and the one who needs more consolation – as I expected – seems to be Ben. He falls to his knees, panting, shrieking in complete agony, and Penny has to shove some Draught of Peace in his mouth for him to calm down.

"What now?" Rowan asks, shivering.

"I'm not sure," I say, looking around.

"Your brother's research mentioned facing our greatest fear," Tulip says. "You beat the boggarts, but... maybe we should say our fears out loud!"

"Worth the shot," I say, raising my voice. "LOSING MY BROTHER! YOU-KNOW-WHO!"

"BETRAYING MY FRIENDS!" Tulip shouts. "HURTING TONKS!"

"FAILING MY EXAMS!" Rowan goes right after.

"PINE CONES!" Ben yells.

"LOSING MY FAMILY!" Bill says.

"WEREWOLVES!" Penny cries.

"CLOWNS!" Barnaby shouts and we all look at him with curiosity. "I can't be the only one who thought those Boggarts were more frightening _after_ Athena cast the spell."

"It's not working," I say. "Something is wrong..."

Then something happens. I feel light and slightly dizzy and all I seem to see is a thick white fog. I don't see my friends anymore nor hear their voices.

I'm all alone.

"It's too late, Athena," Jake's voice is crisp and clear, seeming to come right from somewhere in front of me. I reach out my arms, but all I grab is mist.

"JAKE!" I shout. "Where are you?"

"He's already inside you," he continues in his usual melodic voice. "You have to fight, Athena! Fight!"

The mist dissipates, as well as my brother's voice, and I find myself back in the Cursed Vault, the water still covering everything, but my friends are nowhere to be seen.

"ROWAN!" I yell. "PENNY! BILL!"

No one answers.

Instead, that dreadful smoke rises again and the pale evil You-Know-Who/Boggart appears in front of me. Only this time there's only one.

"There is nothing worse than death," he hisses, aiming his wand at me.

" _Riddikulus!_ " I shout even before I have time to think.

Nothing seems to happen and he simply flashes me the most demoniac looking smile I have ever seen.

I raise my wand again.

" _Flipendo!_ " and my spell hits him right in the chest, pushing him back.

 _That's it._

 _I have to_ literally _fight my fears._

" _Incendio!_ " I shout and the red light comes from my wand and sets his black robes on fire. He releases a loud scream and points his wand at me.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " he shouts, but deep inside I know the Killing Curse won't affect me. He's just a boggart...

" _Protego!_ " I say and the shield protects me from the green light coming straight to me. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

His wand flies from his hand, falling somewhere inside the water and disappears into a small cloud of smoke. He grins at me – devilishly – and takes a step closer.

" _Riddikulus!_ " I shout and this time it works.

The boggart twists and turns into the same dancing clown I've seen countless times and his mouth opens in an amused smile.

"Game over," I say, releasing a snicker of relief.

He makes a bow before dissipating into a purple and blue smoke. Gently, all the water seems to vanish as well and little by little I start to see my friends again; see-through at first, but then they become completely solid, until we find ourselves inside the Cursed Vault again.

"Athena!" Rowan says, wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

"What happened?" I ask when I see their concerned stares.

"I don't know," Bill says. "You were frozen. Suspended in the air like a puppet!"

"Oh my God," Rowan cries. "I'm so happy you're okay!"

"You guys," Barnaby calls and we look to where he's looking at.

The light inside the domed structure seems to be getting stronger, flooding the room with its yellow shimmer.

I walk to it determined and reach my hand to touch its cool wall.

Nothing happens.

"I don't understand," I say. "All I did was to touch the last one... and it opened."

"Wait," Tulip says, kneeling by the marble base of the structure. "There's something written in here. _To open, a wizard must make the ultimate sacrifice._ "

"Like... a blood sacrifice?" Ben screeches.

"No," I say, opening my bag. "This is too obvious. The ultimate sacrifice we could do is to give up our magic."

"Your brother figured it out," Rowan says, watching me draw Jake's broken wand from my bag.

"All this time, I thought they had broken it when he was expelled," I say, sadly. "When it was him all along. He gave up his magic to try to save everyone."

I touch the dome with my brother's broken wand and just like the previous one, the walls open like a flower, revealing its shining interior.

"Look!" Barnaby gasps.

Inside, floating carelessly in between the flickering light, it's a broken arrow and a scroll of yellowed parchment. I reach out and grab them, instantly feeling my heart lightening up. The yellow light inside the dome fades away and we're left with the two curious objects and a feeling of accomplishment in our hearts.

Rowan grabs the broken arrow from my hand and starts to study it. Gently, I unroll the parchment, my eyes finding a very intricate and well-drawn map.

"A map," Bill says, his eyes moving over it. "Of the Forbidden Forest."

"How do you know?" I ask.

"I've been there before," he says. "Charlie loves dragons. He once convinced me to go look for some in the forest."

"The arrow's head is missing," Rowan says. "What do you think this means?"

"It's pretty clear to me," Tulip says. "The next vault must be inside the forest."

"There's something scribbled in the corner of the map," Bill says, running his finger over the paper to straighten it. "Just a letter R."

My heart seems to freeze.

R again.

"What do we do now?" Ben cries.

I look at my amazing friends, thinking of how I could possibly thank them enough.

"Let's get out of here."


	52. Year 3: Chapter 24 - Bittersweet Ending

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! And so we reached the end of another year at Hogwarts. This is the last chapter of Athena's third year and I'll give it some time for you to review it, say what you thought about the year as a whole and your expectations for the fourth year. I wanna send a big shout out to **Thay** and **Andouille** , who left sweet comments. I'll use this time to correct the mistakes on the previous chapters, so there aren't any incoherencies. So if you see anything, please let me know. As you guys already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Twenty Four – Bittersweet Ending**

Apparently, Merula did try to run straight to Professor Snape and spill the beans, but she didn't count with a well-prepared Tonks waiting right outside the library, armed with all sorts of prank devices.

"Zonko's has these Memory Drops," she says, shaking a small tin with what seems to be a bunch of small mints. "They make you forget the last ten minutes. I stuffed it in their mouths after I hit them with _Petrificus Totalus_ when they were running from my Fanged Frisbee."

"I'm so proud of you!" Tulip says, messing her bright pink hair.

"I haven't told you the best part!" she says. "Snape came racing through the corridor and when he saw Merula and Ismelda frozen on the floor, he didn't scold me! He just asked me if you were okay," Tonks looks at me and shrugs. "I didn't even have time to speak and then he left."

As weird as it sounded, the weirdest part was the fact that we broke another curse and no one seemed to know of our involvement. Apparently, it took forever for Charlie to find the Snitch and he eventually got it before Nate. Everyone went to Hogsmeade to celebrate and Tonks spent a long time bothering Madam Pince – who didn't notice someone had entered the Restricted Section – until she saw us safely leaving the library.

"She threated to remove all the points from Hufflepuff if I didn't leave," she smiles.

"Like that would make much of a difference," Penny says. "You're always losing the points I gain."

Professor Snape said nothing during our next encounters, but he did stare at me several times, making me wonder if he was reading my mind and knew everything I've done. However, he didn't treat me with coldness or disappointment; if anything, he seemed to be relieved.

People started to question the Boggarts' whereabouts only three weeks after we managed to open the vault – which we tenderly nicknamed The Vault of Fear – and rumors about my possible involvement started to run through the school.

"If anything happens," I said to my friends. "I'll say I acted alone."

"No," Barnaby said, fiercely. "We're all in this together."

I tried to remain away from the spotlight as much as I could, spending all my time in the library helping Barnaby study, sharing mints without Madam Pince noticing, pretending I hadn't been adventuring inside the Restricted Section. In fact, when I finally returned the books, she looked like she didn't know anything.

"Broke another curse, Lockhart?" my choir mate, the Slytherin called Mia who helped Flitwick when he was locked inside the cursed ice, seemed to be finally showing her slithering side.

"Mind your own business, Mia," Barnaby said.

"I'm not stupid," she said. "Nobody saw you in the last Quidditch game. Was that when you decided to enter another Cursed Vault?"

"Athena was at the game," Chester's voice startled me when he came walking in our direction.

"No one saw her there," Mia insisted.

"But I'm stating she was there," Chester said. "It's not my fault if you see nothing but yourself. Now move on."

Chester, surprisingly, didn't seem to be mad at me as well. In fact, he asked me to meet him one more time behind the Greenhouses.

"What's up with you and Chester, after all?" Barnaby asks while I'm leaving the library to meet Chester. "Is he your boyfriend?"

I almost swallow my mint.

"No," I giggle. "Just a mentor. Why?"

"No reason," he says, but I could swear his cheeks blushed a little.

Chester seems happy to see me, his wand already in hand, his chocolate hair swaying in the wind. Even though we had a turbulent start, I feel like I'll really miss having him around when he graduates.

"Thanks for the other day," I say and he makes a gesture for me not to talk about it.

"We can talk about it later," he says. "Today I want to teach you two spells. One is _Alarte Ascendare_ and the other is _Aresto Momentum_."

Apparently, the first spell is used to shoot a target high into the air and Chester seems to have a lot of fun throwing me very high up in the sky and using the other spell to make me descend slowly.

After a bunch of repetitions, I don't even feel nervous when I begin to fall, casting _Aresto Mometum_ on myself. He carefully teaches me all the correct wrist and arm movements and even allows me to use _Alarte Ascendare_ on him a single time.

"Now," he says, carelessly sitting over the grass. "Do you finally understand why I've been teaching you all these spells?"

"Because you' re leaving?" I shrug. "Because you're a great wizard?"

He shakes his head.

"So I can get more house points?" I say and he smiles.

"Partly," he says. "But also because you have great potential, Athena. I know I've been really harsh on you, but only because I want you to understand the consequences of your actions. However, you've shown me you are a great witch, being an outstanding singer and seeker even under the terrible happenings in your family," he sighs. "I'll really miss you, but I hope to leave a little bit of me before I leave. Perhaps, one day, you can too become a Prefect and a Head Girl."

I snicker, feeling my cheeks flushing with his compliments.

"I mean it, Athena," he says. "You definitively have what it takes. All our professors agree. Even though you started with quite a bad reputation and done a lot of reckless things, you still managed to succeed in everything you tried. And the fact that you've been carefully studying the vaults and breaking the curses is the cherry on top."

"I... well... thank you, Chester," I say. "Thank you so much."

"Just promise me one thing," he says.

"Anything."

"When my brother Roger comes to Hogwarts, please, lead him the right way," he asks. "Be a good mentor for him too."

"I promise."

* * *

Butterbeer seems to taste even better now that the imminent threat is controlled. The eight of us – Rowan, Penny, Ben, Bill, Tulip, Tonks, Barnaby and I – sit together in a big table, sipping the marvelous amber beverage and enjoying the blissful relaxation for a bit.

"So next year we'll attempt to enter the Forbidden Forest," Tulip says. "I'll drink to that!"

"I can't stop thinking about the letter R in the corner of the map," Bill says. "We used to think it could be Merula, but now Rita Skeeter is also a valid suspect."

"Yeah, _Benjamin_!" Rowan says, staring at Ben. "Who is R, after all?"

"Why are you looking at me?" he asks, scared.

"Last year, we found letters addressed to you that were signed with the same R," she says.

"And I told you I don't remember anything after being frozen in the cursed ice!" he shrieks.

"I swear to God, Ben, if you're lying to me..."

"I'm not!"

"No one else lost their memory after getting frozen by the cursed ice," she squints her eyes. "If you know anything, spit it out right now."

"I'm... sorry," he says with a sad face. "I can't. I don't know anything about this mysterious R."

"I hope you aren't lying to protect us," Rowan continues. "We can't help each other unless we know what's going on."

"I'm not lying to protect you," he says with a trembling voice. "I promise."

"Let's worry about this another day," I say, raising my mug. "For now, I just wanna take this moment to thank you guys for everything. And a toast to the new additions to our gang, Barnaby and Tonks."

"Cheers!"

A gentle tap on the window makes us aware of a very flushed ginger boy standing outside the pub. He gets in, fixing his hair messed up by the wind, and looks at us with a big smile.

"Hi guys," Charlie says and I notice Rowan sinking in the chair next to me.

"Hey Charlie," I say with a smile.

"Athena, Dumbledore is looking for you," he says and this time it's my turn to sink in my chair. "He said he's waiting for you in front of Honeydukes."

"Argh," I moan, getting up and giving away my seat for Charlie.

* * *

He's eating wine gums when I get there, observing the students passing with a pensive expression in his blue eyes. When he sees me coming, he blinks his eyes from behind the half-moon glasses.

"This has become something for a tradition," he says with a sweet voice. "Let's take a walk, Miss Lockhart."

I stroll next to him for a while, walking among the excited students and the buzzing stores, until we reach the fence that separates the village from the Shrieking Shack. It's a very recluse place, which people tend to avoid, even though it's now covered by a beautiful green grass and wild flowers.

"Wine gum?" he says, offering me the candy box.

"No, thanks, sir," I say, holding my hands behind my back, waiting for the lecture to come.

"I suppose this is our annual opportunity to discuss your unprecedented heroics and egregious misbehavior," he says, his blue eyes sparkling.

"If I may, sir," I say. "How did you know?"

He flashes me a gentle smile.

"It is my very job to know what happens inside Hogwarts," he says. "Though the fact that you didn't try to dissuade me made it very clear that you were the one responsible for breaking another curse."

I sigh and stare at the abandoned house in the distance.

"I understand that a substantial amount of mayhem transpired in my absence," he continues. "Dragons in the Common Rooms, werewolves in the Greenhouses, Voldemort himself lurking in every cupboard. Apparently, even I made more than one appearance in Boggart form."

I release a subtle giggle.

"Is it true that all the Boggarts are gone?" I ask, raising my eyes to meet his.

"Boggarts can never be truly banished, because they are born of human emotion," he explains. "Fortunately, they can be of some use. I'm sure a few Boggarts were nothing compared to what you faced inside the vault. Please, tell me everything."

I notice this is not a request; Dumbledore may be very gentle and speak very kindly, but he's also very imposing. I take a deep breath and begin to tell everything that I experienced inside the vault, taking care not to mention my friends, even though Barnaby said we're all in this together.

Dumbledore listens in silence, blinking from time to time and raising his brows during some passages. A crow's shriek makes me shiver, even though the day is sunny and very comfortable.

"From what you've told me, it sounds as though someone else tampered with the Cursed Vaults, releasing the Boggarts," he says.

"That's my understanding," I say. "But you would know better than me."

"There's someone who would know better than us both," he says. "Do you know where I've been this year?"

I shake my head.

"Seeking the world's finest Curse-Breaker," he tells me. "One who has intimate experience with the Cursed Vaults. She was an exceptional pupil of mine, back when my beard was a little shorter," he smiles. "At present, she's exploring recently discovered ruins under the Brazilian wizarding school, Castelobruxo."

I raise my eyebrows, wondering who "she" is.

"When the next year begins, she'll be here at Hogwarts. I will be most interested to hear her opinion of the vaults," he says. "And of you."

This time, there's a bit of irritation inside his blue eyes.

"You have once again directly disobeyed me, Miss Lockhart," he says. "Yet, you have once again broken a curse that threatened us all. I am running out of excuses for you. Break one more rule and I will not be able to insulate you from serious punishment."

"I understand," I say. "I'm very sorry, sir."

"Actions are far better than apologies. Take Fawkes, for instance. From time to time, the phoenix is reborn, fresh and rejuvenated. You have that power too. Take the rest of the school year and the summer and when you return to Hogwarts, start fresh," he says. "Nevertheless, I'll reward you with a hundred points for-"

"I don't want them," I say, interrupting him. "The house points."

"May I question your motives?" he says.

"I have already been awarded fifty points by Professor Flitwick, after Rita Skeeter's obvious manipulation, for reasons still unknown to me," I say. "So I don't want you to reward me, sir, for being reckless and disrespecting your orders."

"Miss Lockhart," he begins saying, but I continue.

"I know these points could help Ravenclaw," I say. "But then again, this is just a competition. I may be wrong and it may sound selfish, but I honestly believe there are more important things to worry about."

This time he doesn't say anything; he simply smiles at me, very kindly, and nods.

"Thank you for the stroll, Professor," I say, politely, heading back to my friends. Though I feel like the things will be terribly harder when I come back for my fourth year, I also feel lighter and, somehow, wiser.

* * *

With two things still left for me to succeed in – my last Quidditch match and the final exams – I'm practicing and studying really hard, finally enjoying some peaceful time at school, without cursed ice or boggarts lurking in the dark.

"Alright, guys," Isaac says with a smile on his lips; a smile that is, at the same time, happy and sad. "It has been a true honor playing next to you. As you already know, you won't be seeing Jack and I anymore, because we will be very busy playing for the WIMBOURNE WASPS!"

We explode in applauses and ovations, and Isaac and Jack gracefully bow at us.

"However, we still have to succeed in this last match," Isaac says. "Because I'll kick all your arses if we don't get the Quidditch Cup."

"Hurray!" Will says vigorously.

"And there's also the fact that you won't be only losing an awesome keeper, but also your adored Captain," Isaac continues and Will punches his arm. "It is time for me to name a new Captain. A Captain that I'm sure will lead Ravenclaw to another victory," he makes a dramatic pause. "Matt, I name you as the next Captain."

"Yes!" Matt says, falling to his knees and making a victorious gesture.

"Now," Isaac says. "Let's finish those Gryffindors!"

We train under sun and rain, heavy winds and gentle breezes, until May 30th finally arrives. Charlie seems to be very confident and Rowan still seems to have conflicted feelings about who she's supposed to root for.

"Root for him," I shrug. "He's your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" she shrieks.

"Rowan," I say. "Will you ever tell me what's going on?"

She moans.

"I... I don't know," she says. "Charlie is amazing. He knows dragons more than anything and it's... really nice to be with him. But I can't."

"You still have feelings for Bill?" I ponder.

"No," she sighs. "That has vanished a long time ago. It's just... I'm beginning to really like him... Charlie... but I can't allow this to happen."

"Why?" I ask. "You didn't seem worried when it was about Bill."

"It's because I hadn't really thought about it," Rowan complains. "The thing is... I really don't want to hurt Charlie."

"I don't see your point."

"Athie, you know I've been promised to Dev," she sighs. "Though I don't know him and really don't wish to marry him, I can't turn my back on my family. And I can't lead a relationship with Charlie knowing that, one day, I'll have to end everything in order to marry another guy."

I look at her, slightly gaped, feeling my heart tightening.

"Oh, Row," I say, pulling her for a hug. "Your heart truly is pure. And I agree with you. It is unfair to Charlie. But then again, why shouldn't you enjoy it while you still can? I mean... make him aware of the situation. And if, even then, he's up to it, then seize the years you have to be with him."

She looks at me and her face seems to light up a bit.

"I'll talk to him," she moans. "But only after the summer. If he still has feelings for me after it, then I'll do it."

"Fair enough," I say. "Now go root for your future boyfriend. I'll still manage to win without your support," I wink and she slaps my arm in a friendly way.

I fix my uniform and grab my Silver Arrow, feeling the confidence building inside my chest. After everything I've been through this year, a Quidditch match looks like child's play.

My team heads to the pitch and I happily follow them, a big smile upon my face, my soul flooding with energy when our feet touch the green lawn and the bright blue sky greets us. I allow the sun and the wind to kiss my skin, opening my eyes to the blue immensity.

And I soar.


	53. Year 4: Chapter 1 - Something Wicked Thi

**A/N:** Hello, everyone! How are you all doing? It's been a while since I finished Year 3 and here we are, starting Year 4. It bothers me to say that I haven't finished writing this year yet, mainly because the struggles with writer's block continue to disturb me. But I'm sure I'll get over it and provide you with a great year. Year 5 is also getting pretty interesting, especially now that they're talking about Athena's cousin. I wanna thank all the new followers and send a big shout out to all the new readers. Welcome aboard and leave your comment so I know your thoughts on this story. Anyway, as you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter One – Something Wicked This Way Comes**

Serenity; that's something I haven't felt for so long that I don't even know how to enjoy it anymore. I find myself worrying without reasons, waking up in the middle of the night as if the Vault of Fear is still endangering Hogwarts, but then I find myself lying in my bed in Lockhart Gardens.

I instantly run my fingers over the eleven tickling charms in my bracelet – which I don't remove for anything in the world – and I can recognize every single one of them, even in the dark.

There's Rowan's little tree, Penny's cauldron, Ben's lion, Bill's crossed wands, Tulip's tulip... and now the new additions: Charlie's dragon egg, Tonks' color changing sphere, Barnaby's unicorn, my grandma's small agate, my grandpa's pipe and Holly's colorful holly. Each one of these people holds a special place in my heart and I have much to be thankful for them.

I stare at my room's ceiling, the moonlight throwing ghostly shapes of the swinging trees all over it, and the movement works as a lullaby. I close my eyes, remembering when I first went to Hogwarts, thinking I'd have no friends, because everyone would think I was cursed.

I snicker in the dark, rolling to my side and hugging my herbal pillow. Now I have eight of the most wonderful friends and thinking of them brings instant peace to my heart.

My nightmares ceased to haunt me – for now, at least – and I've been having amazing nights of sleep where I mainly dream of my friends and I doing all sorts of dangerous things. For instance, once I dreamt that Rowan and I were flying my Silver Arrow in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean during a storm. Sounded pretty exciting during the dream, however.

Grandpa seems to be very happy to have me around again, because now we can discuss likely and unlikely plans for me to sneak into the Forbidden Forest and find the other Cursed Vault.

"First, it is very important that you read all you can about it," he says, filling his pipe. "There are all sorts of dangerous plants and creatures inside that forest and I don't you want you to venture without being prepared."

So I've been spending summer reading all I can about magical creatures and threatening plants – mainly from my grandma's potions room – to try and prepare before I go back to school to another year of rule-breaking and mortal dangers.

Grandpa also seems to be pretty skeptical about the famous Curse-Breaker mentioned by Dumbledore, who's apparently responsible now for finding the vaults and ending the imminent threat.

"It's like when they brought a bunch of allegedly incredible witches and wizards to help the faculty locate the Chamber of Secrets," he tells me. "In the end, they found nothing and concluded that the Chamber was a myth. Of course I never truly believed them. I mean, a girl was murdered and they tried to convince us it was merely an accident."

With grandpa's words still fresh on my mind, I put on a swimsuit, grab a book and head to our private little beach. My awfully pale skin is in some desperate need for some sunrays, so I lie over a towel and spend a while under the sun, reading about potentially dreadful mushrooms.

 _The Great Horned Deadly Mushroom is a fungus native from Japan and Korea, but which has already spread worldwide. Its red fruiting bodies contain potent toxins that can cause multiple organ failure in those unlucky enough to be bitten by it. Symptoms include stomach pain, peeling skin, low blood pressure, liver necrosis, acute kidney failure, and result in a slow and painful death._

"Interesting," I murmur to myself, looking at the mushroom that looks like a big coral with pointy teeth.

Those needle-like fangs bring Professor Lorcan to my mind. I was beginning to think he was actually a decent man – especially after I got an Outstanding in his class – but he managed to screw it up just a week before leaving school.

The doxies apparently weren't enough for him and it was Professor Snape who found out about Olivia Turner's midnight escapes to the dungeons. The girl, a Slytherin who looked exactly like I imagined Mina, from Dracula, gladly volunteered to allow him to vigorously drink from her blood. It's still unknown if it was fruit of a trance or an actual romance between her and our dhampir teacher, but Professor Snape caught him biting her neck after "unintentionally" entering the wrong classroom.

It came out in the front page of the Daily Prophet, in an obvious sensationalist article by the infamous Rita Skeeter, who mentioned a lawsuit upon Hogwarts and the famous model/singer Lorcan d'Eath. The school pronounced, informing the immediate demission of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and apologizing to the family of the "victim".

Thankfully for poor Miss Turner, she graduated and won't have to deal with curious and judgmental eyes. Rowan, on the other hand, seems to be outraged not to have her dazzling part-vampire teacher anymore.

 _I would have gladly offered him_ my _blood if he had asked. I can't believe he fell for some awful Slytherin girl... But it's obvious that Rita Skeeter's article is pure tabloid journalism. I mean, as if a gentleman like Lorcan d'Eath would ever hypnotize a helpless girl just to drink her blood... And he was an amazing teacher! I can't believe we won't be seeing him around anymore. But thank God he's releasing another album, so I'll be able to listen to his marvelous voice on the radio._

 _Anyway, Charlie has been writing all summer and..._

The person who seemed to be exultant the most with Professor Lorcan's demission was our fearsome Potions Master. He seemed extra cheerful while watching our dhampir teacher pack and leave the school, escorted by a pair of Aurors. I could swear to see him devilishly smile at the unfolding scene, but when I looked again, the smile was gone.

I stopped by his office before leaving to take the train back home. He was, as I anticipated, filing a formulary to apply to the now vacant post of our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Don't," I said, hesitantly. "Please."

He simply stared at me with intensity, his raven eyes completely ignoring my request, for he turned them back to the form and continued to write. I left, desperately wishing that Professor Dumbledore wouldn't grant him his so long desired job. It was selfish of me, but I didn't want to see him leave because of a cursed position.

I lie down on my back, allowing the sun to kiss my face, and cover my eyes with the back of my hand. The sunbeams warm my skin and the violent sound of the waves breaking against the rocks and sand makes my mind relax for a bit.

My upcoming year won't be as different from my third one; I'll still take every class as possible, but not because I feel like occupying my mind in order not to think of my collapsing family. I'll do it because I managed to succeed in every single task – for my grandparents' delight – and even the simplest of classes, like Divination, brought me something of good. My grade report, bearing nothing but Outstanding's, was proudly pinned next to my schedule and the gorgeous Polaroid of Holly and I in the garden.

The thing that sucks the most about summer is the fact that my wand remains untouched, sitting over my desk, almost begging me to use it. Thankfully, I've been helping grandma to brew some potions and have also been practicing a few "tricks" that do not require incantations or wands, so they're technically allowed to be used outside of school.

I open my hand in front of my face, easily making a flower grow from my palm. I close my hand and the flower disappears, still bringing the delightful magical feeling to my heart.

After a while under the sun, I grab my stuff and return to the house, practicing lighting up the candles before entering the bath. I make the bubbles float around the bathroom and then make a gentle air breeze flow around my body to help me dry up. May seem silly, but these so-called tricks are immensely useful. I then sit by my desk, making the spoon move by itself inside my tea, while reading about how to turn book pages simply using the eyes.

Still, I miss the intricate wrist movements and the beautiful pronunciation of the spells. I rest my hand on my face and stare longingly at my cinnamon wand. The scent is still as strong as in the day I got her and Mr. Olivanders' words are also fresh in my mind: sensibility is my strength.

The many letters piling up over my desk seem to prove it. I was kind enough to understand, but also prevent Penny from drinking a Forgetfulness Potion; I also made Tulip understand that she doesn't need to be afraid of betraying us, because I trust her; and also made Barnaby realize that he can have caring friends that don't patronize him all the time.

"Athena?" Holly's voice startles me and the spoon stops moving. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that lunch is ready."

And then there's Holly. She blinks her jade eyes at me before leaving and I feel grateful for having her around. Perhaps I inherited the sensibility from my grandma, who kindly freed Holly from a lifetime of slavery and gave her a fair job in our house, with the right to a salary, a beautifully decorated bedroom in the attic, a place with us during every meal and even Christmas presents. Unlike any other house elf, she always seems to be utterly thrilled.

We all sit together to have lunch, in a table placed over the green grass, and I think that this is where I belong after all. If my brother had never gone missing, I wouldn't have known about my father's inclinations towards infidelity. I would have spent my life thinking he was a good man and wouldn't have experienced being shipped off to my muggle grandparents after my mum's death.

Despite all these tragedies, I still have fire burning inside my heart, that tells me I'll find my brother and that, no matter what, I'll always find the strength to smile.

"There are how many places to be filled in the Quidditch team this year, darling?" my grandfather asks.

"Two," I say. "Isaac, our Captain and keeper, and Jack, our chaser, graduated. They both got jobs in the Wimbourne Wasps."

"And who's the new Captain now?" he asks.

"Matt Miller," I say. "He's our beater."

"Oh. I could swear you'd be chosen as the new Captain."

"Grandps, I'm only fourteen," I snicker. "Perhaps next year."

"Can you imagine that, sweetie?" he says, looking at my grandma. "Our Athena, Quidditch Captain _and_ Prefect!"

"I'm not sure I'll be chosen as a Prefect," I say. "I mean... I don't think Dumbledore likes me very much."

"Nonsense," grandma says. "What reasons he could possibly have not to like you?"

Grandpa and I exchange secretive looks.

"None," I lie, taking a sip from my iced tea.

My grandfather said my grandma would have an aneurism if she knew what I've been up too at school. He was able to intercept Professor Dumbledore's letter when it arrived and quickly burned it before grandma could even see it. She's completely unaware of my adventures regarding the Cursed Vaults and grandpa says he prefers her to be left out of it.

Everything related to the Cursed Vaults is carefully hidden inside my trunk, inside a small bag which my grandpa charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm. I have the messages from R, the mysterious letter, my brother's broken wand, the book, the map and the broken arrow. And yet, I still don't know how I'll be able to undetectably enter the Forbidden Forest without finding too much trouble.

When I go back to Hogwarts, I'll head straight to the library and try to find as much information as possible concerning the property's forest and the magical beings that lurk in there.

After lunch, Holly helps me practice my seeker skills by throwing and moving small objects in the air while I try to catch them. Grandpa sits in a chair over the lawn, holding a notebook and a quill, working on his next novel, randomly moving his eyes to watch me practice. It makes me tremendously happy that I managed to make him proud of me.

He claps when I grab a tiny sugar cube right before it hits the ground and I can barely wait for the upcoming Quidditch matches. It brought me great joy to help my team achieve the Quidditch Cup – for Isaac's total and complete bliss -, though it wasn't enough to grant Ravenclaw the House Cup. Once again, Slytherin was ahead of us. I never said anything about the hundred points I declined, because they would have certainly granted us the award.

Nevertheless, it didn't feel right to accept points for doing a bunch of dangerous things. Dumbledore made it very clear how disappointed he was about my mindless adventures and how I was supposed to let the mysterious Curse-Breaker deal with the vaults from now on.

Yeah.

He'd wish.

As much I want to trust this witch that I don't even know, something inside me still tells me that I must be the one to find my brother. He's been gone for over three years and after my mum's death anniversary, it felt even righter to jeopardize everything in order to find him.

Yet, I still don't feel like putting my friends' life in danger. Though most of them – like Charlie, Barnaby, Bill, Tulip and Tonks – seem very excited to enter the forest, I still don't want to risk getting them expelled or hurt. Like Frodo and the Ring, this is my burden to carry, doesn't matter how willing they are to follow me.

I haven't said anything yet; during all the letters we've been exchanging during the summer, I haven't mentioned I won't put them in hazard. I can always hear their voices, saying I've gone mad if I think I'll do this alone.

I return to my bedroom, tired and happy, and sink in my bed, running my eyes over the many letters from my wondrous friends.

 _We can do it – Bill._

 _I'll be there for you – Rowan._

 _We won't let Dumbledore stop us – Penny._

 _I'm scared, but I'm with you – Ben._

 _I can't wait to see the unicorns – Barnaby._

I sigh, holding the letters against my chest, feeling thankful for my incredible friends, but also scared and apprehensive.

My fourth year at Hogwarts will definitively be harder, more intense and extremely dangerous. I close my eyes, wondering if the fourteen year old kids at Ilvermorny, Durmstrang and the other wizarding schools are going through the same as me.

No?

Just me?

Alright.


	54. Year 4: Chapter 2 - Law Affairs

**A/N:** What's up, witches? How are you all doing today? I wanna thank all the comments; you guys truly are the best! I'm still correcting the previous chapters, so if you notice any misspelling and stuff, let me know. If you're interested, you can check out my Instagram, at jillklein dot ff. I'm participating Yantarnii's Inktober, so you can see a bit of Athena's life. I think I'll continue to draw, even after the challenge is over. Anyway, I hope you're liking the story! I can't wait to start writing Year 5. Things are so interesting! I still don't quite know how to introduce all the new characters, but I'll do my best. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Two – Law Affairs**

This time his suit is green and he's wearing a red fedora hat. I have spent long months without seeing the serious face of Gunnar Keeling, but grandpa doesn't seem surprised when he shows up by our door.

"Come in, Mr. Keeling," he says. "May I take your coat? It's really hot in here."

"Indeed," the wizard lawyer says, entering our house with a briefcase under his arm.

This time, they don't go straight to my grandfather's office; instead, we all sit together at the dining table, which is already set with steaming hot tea and a tray of different types of biscuits.

Mr. Keeling grabs a biscuit and eats it before he even starts speaking. He then opens the briefcase and grabs a bunch of papers and files.

"Mr. Hodges is not cooperating," he says. "He and his fiancée are willing to fight for Miss Lockhart's custody."

I choke with my tea, spilling it all over my dress. Holly quickly brings me a napkin.

"I beg your pardon?" grandma says, sounding very offended. "Did you say _fiancée_?"

"Yes, yes," he says. "Mr. Hodges and Miss Skeeter are currently engaged and they are very determined that Miss Lockhart will soon join them in their new house in London."

"But," I find myself to be completely speechless. "But the house in Sunderland... I thought he wanted it."

"Apparently Miss Skeeter managed to change his mind," Mr. Keeling crinkles the corners of his eyes in a not so comforting smile. "Yet, the house is to be sold and the amount divided between you and your father."

"And my brother!" I exclaim.

"Due to the circumstances regarding your brother's whereabouts, the amount will be divided between you and your father only," he explains.

I growl, hiding my face on my hands.

"What about Annette's belongings?" grandma asks. "Everything that is still in Sunderland..."

"According to," he says, grabbing another paper. "this authorization signed by Mr. Hodges, you have the right to collect your daughter's belongings until the end of August, when the house will finally be transferred to its new owner."

He grabs a bunch of other files and a quill.

"I have the documents regarding the house sale," he says. "You are to receive an amount of 25.500 galleons for your share, Miss Lockhart. However, Mr. Hodges agreed to enhance this value to a total of 35.000 galleons if you submissively agree to move in with him and Miss Skeeter."

It is automatic.

I look at Mr. Keeling with complete perplexity.

And then I start to laugh.

"Unbelievable," I say, still laughing. "Well. Tell my father I'm obliged to refuse his offer."

"Very well, then," Mr. Keeling shrugs. "So, please sign he-"

The doorbell ringing makes us all turn heads. From the large windows we can see a woman waiting by the doorstep. Holly races to open the door and the stranger speaks in a firm voice.

"I'm Angelique Woods," she says. "I'm here to meet Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart."

Holly leads her till the table we're gathered and I can take a better look at her.

She's shorter than me, but she's wearing very high heels and a pretty burgundy tailleur. Her short bob hair frames her very pretty face flawlessly and she places an auburn lock behind her ear.

"Mr. Keeling," she says, opening a dark pink lipstick smile. "Good you're here."

She's completely different than Mr. Keeling; mainly because she speaks way more firmly and isn't afraid to be somewhat rude. Her polished fingers run quickly over the many files, documents and contracts brought by Mr. Keeling and then she grabs a very fancy quill and scratches a bunch of paragraphs with bright red ink.

"Mr. Hodges is clearly delusional if he thinks we'll accept this kind of contract," she says, sipping a cup of tea. "He may use as many different words he can, but we all know that 'willingly', 'submissively' and 'kindly' only mean that Miss Lockhart will be at their mercy."

"I thought I knew Christopher," grandma sighs and grandpa caresses her back. "He and Annette have been married ever since they left school. I would have never imagined he was capable of such things."

"We never know who we're dealing with, Mrs. Lockhart, until they screw everything up," Angelique says. "That's why my motto is 'guilty till proven otherwise'."

The morning seems to take forever to end, slowly crawling while we discuss my father's affair, Rita Skeeter's addition to his will and my brother's permanent removal from it... but everything seems to get a little harder when we begin to discuss my custody.

"Apparently, Mr. Hodges parents are unwilling to testify about Miss Lockhart's time in their residence," Angelique says. "According to them, they have never received the visit of their witch granddaughter."

Grandpa opens his mouth to protest, but Angelique makes a gesture for him not to speak.

"However, a team of experts were sent to their residence in Plymouth and there were found many evidences of Miss Lockhart's time with them. Hair strands, fingerprints... So their allegations are already jeopardized."

"Will there be the need for us to go to trial?" grandma asks.

"Only if Mr. Hodges doesn't cooperate," Angelique says. "But we'll fight hard for this. However, correct me if I'm wrong Mr. Keeling, your father has requested a meeting with you, Miss Lockhart."

"Indeed," Mr. Keeling says. "Nothing formal. He just wants to see you before your return to Hogwarts. On August 22nd, if possible."

He hands me a very simply letter handwritten by my father.

"And if I deny it?" I say, entwining my fingers over the table.

"Miss Lockhart, it is your very life that is at stake right now," Angelique explains. "I understand you'll have certain... teenage and immature inclinations for your actions, but if you don't take this seriously, your grandparents will hardly be granted your custody. Do not make things harder with your father. Just talk to him. Your conversation, even if it ends badly, will always be something to be used in our favor. But try to put your feelings aside when you talk to him. Be formal, direct and very succinct. Do not give him any more material. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I say, feeling awfully nauseated.

After a few more explanations, they finish their teas, put their papers inside their respective briefcases and leave to the summer air. I, on the other hand, return to my bedroom, crawl onto my bed and allow my teenage immature feelings to take control of me for a while.

My father's letter burn in my hands, but I haven't read it yet. I feel dirty just by touching the parchment, imagining Rita Skeeter's fingerprints all over it. Holly enters my bedroom with a concerned face and hands me a cup full of some herbal tea.

"It has belladonna in it," she says. "Your grandmother said it will help you relax."

"Thanks, Holly," I say, sitting on my bed and drinking a bit of the tea.

"Do you... want to talk... about your father?" she asks and my eyes immediately start to water.

"I'm just... tired," I sigh. "I don't want to see him... but I feel like I don't have a choice."

"Perhaps... it won't be that bad," she says. "People make mistakes, dear. Your father may be regretting his... or not. The only way to find out is if you talk to him."

"I just feel like I don't even know him anymore," I say, a single tear falling down my cheek.

"Maybe that's the issue," Holly holds my hands between hers. "Maybe you don't really know him. The father you knew and loved could've been simply one of his many layers. Sometimes we only see what we want to see. Perhaps the perfect relationship you thought he and your mother had, wasn't so perfect after all. But your kind and young eyes saw only a flawless looking life."

I don't know details about Holly's old life with the Clements, but she seems to have a lot of knowledge and wisdom regarding these life aspects.

"Go talk to your father," she says. "Know him a little better and come out with your own conclusions."

She reaches out and dries my stubborn tear, leaving me by myself again. I crash over the bed, holding my father's letter against my heart, still not sure about how I should be feeling.

Am I really being childish and immature about all this? Was it expected that after everything I've been through, I was supposed to just run into my father's arms and forgive him?

I finish my tea and head to my desk, slowly opening the letter, feeling terribly sick.

 _Athena,_

 _I'd like for us to have a conversation. If possible, meet me at the Leaky Cauldron on August 22_ _nd_ _, at 10 o'clock._

 _I'll be waiting._

 _Your father._

This is evidence or material or whatever expression Miss Woods used, but I feel greatly inclined to burn it.

Just three sentences. Words so cold and so empty that they do not show any of the family attachment we used to have. It's like I'm less than nothing to him, now that he has happily replaced everything for Miss Tabloid-Skeeter.

I look at the calendar pinned to my cork board and realize August 22nd is coming near. I'll probably enjoy the day to also buy my new school books and supplies before finally meeting with my executioner. My hand flies to my quill and I begin addressing letters to all my friends, asking if they'd like to meet me on the 22nd after my reunion with my father.

God knows how much I'll need them.

* * *

My grandparents don't seem very thrilled to take me to London to see my dad. Grandpa put on his best unfriendly face and made sure to get there early for a drink with the bartender.

"For Merlin's sake, Sebastian, is 9 a.m.!" grandma scolded, but grandpa ignored her.

I stopped by Gringotts to withdraw some money and the first thing I did with it was to buy a huge sundae and stuff my mouth with it. I'm heading back to the bar when someone grabs me by the belt loop of my jeans.

"Where do you think you're going?" Barnaby says, opening a big smile and stealing the cherry from my sundae.

"Hey!" I say, feeling my cheeks burn when I notice he seems to be a bit taller, stronger and tanner than the last time I saw him.

He bites the cherry in a very teasing way and winks at me. It takes a lot of self-control not to melt right in front of him. I'm still now sure what the hell it's going on with me and the imminent conversation with my father kinda kills the buzz between us.

"I'll go talk to my dad," I say, blushing. "I'll see you later."

"I'll walk you there," he says with a crooked smile.

 _Oh my goodness…_

I have to wait for a while until my father gets to the Leaky Cauldron. A quick look in my watch makes me aware that it's still 9:55, so he's not technically late.

"And then he said," I hear grandpa telling the bartender. "Merpeople and centaur romance? _Why not?_ "

And they burst into laughter while grandma ignores them and drinks a cup of tea. I sit with Barnaby in a table on the corner and he buys me a wizard soda called Spider Cider and its color is almost fluorescent green.

I'm almost finishing my sundae when my father arrives, accompanied by a whimsical Rita Skeeter. Even from the corner of the room, I can see the huge ring on her finger.

My father walks to me, but Rita Skeeter goes directly to my grandparents. I don't get to see their reaction to her presence, because my father blocks my view.

"Athena," he says. "I'm glad you came."

"I'll wait for you in the bookstore," Barnaby says, leaving with a smile.

"Who was that?" my father asks, sitting in front of me. "Your boyfriend?"

Weirdly, I don't feel my cheeks flushing, because I care less about what my father thinks about Barnaby.

"No," I answer. "Just a friend."

 _Be formal._

 _Be brief._

 _Be cool._

"How have you been?" he asks and I look straight into his eyes, trying to project indifference.

"Very well, thank you," I say, but I do not answer back.

"Listen, Athena," he says. "I want you to come live with me. With us."

I look at Rita Skeeter and her bright red outfit and realize my grandparents don't look happy at all to be talking to her.

"Forgive me," I say. "But I'm already installed in Lockhart Gardens. It would be counterproductive to move again."

"Rita thinks it would be good for us," he says. "As a family."

I release a snort, but quickly put on my indifference face again.

"Rita thinks," I say. "You don't."

"I will not pretend that your reckless adventures at school didn't… preoccupied me," he sighs. "Especially after your mother died."

I entwine my fingers over the table, staring at my acid green soda.

"I won't stand between Rita and you," I say. "I'm perfectly happy living with grandpa and grandma."

"Athena, don't be stubborn," he says, annoyed.

"I'm not," I continue. "I just want you to understand that there's nothing for me here."

"But Rita was so excited with the idea of you helping her choose the wedding dress."

"Wedding... dress?" I lose my breath. "Dad... mum has just died... and you're ready to marry your lover?"

"Rita is not my lover," he says, sharply. "She's my fiancée and your soon to be stepmom."

"And yet, you're putting her above me," I say. "I'm sorry, but I do not hold any interest in living in your love nest or helping her get a wedding dress. If you cared for me, only a tiny bit, you'd let me be."

"Athena…"

"We have nothing more to discuss, dad," I say, getting up.

He sighs and grabs a little sack from his robes' pocket.

"Here," he says. "At least let me contribute with something."

"I don't need your money," I say, coldly.

"I know," he says. "Your mother left you a pretty good inheritance. However, I still wanna be a part of your life. While you're still my little girl at least," he pushes the sack in my direction. "Please."

I unwillingly grab the sack and stick it inside my bag.

"Christopher," grandpa says, coming to us. "So long no see."

"Yes," my father says. "Ever since you invaded my house."

My grandfather rolls his eyes and sits on the chair I just stood up from.

"We have a lot to talk about, apparently," grandpa says and it sounds like a good time to go back to Diagon Alley.

I head to the back alley with a piercing pain in my heart. It takes a while for me to draw my wand and touch the bricks on the wall, because I'm still fighting the tears.

Teenager or not…

Immature or not...

It still hurts.


	55. Year 4: Chapter 3 - The Missing Flower

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you doing? You are truly the most wonderful readers in the entire world! I love reading all your sweet comments and it makes me super happy to know that you are enjoying the story. I hope I'm able to keep up with your expectations! Since we'll be around Chapter 12 by the end of December, I think I'll be able to write a lot during my summer vacations. Yeah, summer is arriving in Brazil! What's the current season in your country? Now I'm making some watercolor/pastel drawing and posting them in my Instagram page. You can check it out if you're interested! It's jillklein dot ff. Anyway, let's head to the chapter! As you guys already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Three – The Missing Flower**

"So your father is marrying Rita Skeeter," Barnaby says when I meet him at Flourish & Blotts. "Better than marrying a Fire Crab."

He grabs a copy of Our Friend Bowtruckle and snickers while reading the preface. It doesn't even look that just a while ago he was pressing me against a wall, threatening to vanish all the bones in my body. Even though he's tall and imposing, I don't think he could ever hurt me.

"ATHENA!" Rowan's voice echoes inside the bookstore and she runs to hug me. "Hello there, Lee!"

It doesn't take long for the whole gang to bust into the store, a skinny ginger boy following Bill and Charlie with scared eyes.

"Guys, this is my brother Percy," Bill says. "He'll just start at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Rowan says. "Good look with that."

Percy looks at her with wide eyes behind his glasses and hides behind Bill.

"He's usually not this shy," he says. "He's a bit of a know-it-all, actually."

I grab the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and also a copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. It is very tempting to take a copy of Advanced Potion-Making, but I have the feeling that I won't need it.

Unless Professor Snape decides not to teach me anymore.

"Merlin's pants!" Bill says while grabbing Percy's supply list. "These things get more expensive by the year! We'll have to buy some second-hand bo-"

"Here," I say, grabbing the little sack my father gave me and throwing it to Bill.

"Athena, this is really not ne-"

"I don't care," I say. "This is not charity. It's my father's dirty money and I don't want it. Make some good use of it."

I turn my back on him and head to the cashier. When we finally sit at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, my dad isn't there anymore. On the other hand, Percy seems exultant with his new wand and books.

"Sebastian!" a red-haired man hops to my grandfather, accompanied by a short chubby ginger witch. "How's everything?"

"Hello there, Arthur!" grandpa says. "Have you met my granddaughter? Athena, this is Arthur Weasley."

"My dad," Bill says with a bashful smile.

"So nice to meet you, dear!" Mr. Weasley says with a broad smile. "This is my wife, Molly."

Bill's mom seems to be very sweet, but her face twists into a scowl when she sees all the new books Percy is holding.

"How, in Merlin's name, you found the money to buy him new books?" she asks Bill, exasperated.

"Mom, I di-"

"It was me, Mrs. Weasley," I say. "Forgive me. I hope you're not offended."

"Oh, dear," she says, blushing. "Not at all. It's just... it wasn't really necessary."

"I know," I say. "Consider it a welcoming present for Percy."

They sit with my grandparents at a table close to ours and I hear grandpa telling them about what has been happening in our family. Mrs. Weasley flashes concerned looks in my direction and seems to blush even more when grandma mentions the money my father gave me, in an obvious attempt to buy me.

"Don't worry," Charlie says. "Mom gets really nervous when it comes to money," he then opens the brand new book about dragons and rests it against the big jar of juice. Unlike his mom, he doesn't seem bothered by the fact that I just gave them my father's bribe money.

After lunch, we all go back to Diagon Alley to get the rest of the stuff; Tulip and Tonks go ahead and they get a huge stock of Filibuster's, snickering with very secretive smiles. The only thing that seems to make Charlie let go of his new dragons' book is Rowan; he spends the rest of the day looking at her like she's his very own sun.

 _Things are getting interesting already._

* * *

"He wrote _all_ summer," Rowan tells me when we enter an empty compartment on the train. With our friends coming right after us, she doesn't have much time to talk. "He even sent me all these cute love poems. All about dragons and stuff, but they were actually pretty cute. Dang, what am I gonna do? What if he wants to snog? I've never kissed a boy before! Oh, crap, here he comes."

The seats get pretty crowded when Penny, Ben, Charlie, Tulip, Tonks and Barnaby join us, but the trip gets endlessly more fun.

"This year we plan on testing some new hexes on Filch," Tonks says, happily.

"We got this new book," Tulip says, grabbing a tiny book from her bag. "Drive People Crazy: The Handbook of Hexes."

And they begin to giggle mischievously, making the rest of us exchange weird looks.

Barnaby, being so tall and bulky, has his leg pressed against mine during the whole trip and sometimes he even places his arm above the seat, right behind my shoulders, making me experience awful butterflies. Especially when he flashes me those bright green eyes of his.

"Anything of the trolley, dears?" Mrs. Mason, the trolley lady, asks us kindly.

"I want some Chocolate Frogs," I say, happily. "And you guys?"

"Just a mint box, please," Barnaby says, handing her some coins.

He puts a few of them in his mouth, flashing me a breathtaking smile. I stuff the frog in my mouth and try to suffocate the butterflies with it.

Many hours later, we start to see the castle in the distance.

"Boys, if you please," Penny says. "Could you leave the compartment for the ladies to get dressed?"

Charlie and Barnaby look a little bashful when she says that, while Ben turns bright red. They all grab their robes and leave us alone, looking for another compartment to get dressed.

"Oh my God, finally!" Rowan says, dressing as quick as possible. "What do I do?" she looks at me, desperately. "What if he wants to kiss?"

"Then kiss him," I say, simply.

"But how?" she cries.

"Like this," Tulip says, pretending to hug the air and puckering up as if she's kissing someone. "Oh, Charlie! Your lips are so soft!"

"I'm warning you," Rowan says, aiming her wand at Tulip.

"Oh, Charlie," Tulip continues, ignoring her. "Kiss me more, my dragon knight!"

The cabin's door opens abruptly and Tulip blushes furiously when the boys return, in their robes, and catch her snogging the air.

"I heard my name," Charlie says, confused. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Rowan says, quickly, running her fingers nervously through her raven hair.

We all sit again, talking about all the classes that we'll be taking. Again, Rowan is skeptical about Divination, still preferring Arithmancy.

"I try I'll try to join the Slytherin Quidditch team this year," Barnaby says, scratching his chin. "I've heard one of the beaters graduated."

"Athena and Charlie better watch out," Tulip says with a smirk. "If you get hit by one of Barnaby's bludgers, you'll probably fall straight to death."

"Oh, but I'd never hurt you, Athena," Barnaby says, embarrassed.

"Hey!" Charlie exclaims. "What about me?"

"You have your dragons to keep you safe," he says with a smile.

Our compartment door opens again, this time revealing a very chuffed Bill, wearing his Prefect badge. Rowan doesn't blush when she seems him, but she does become bright red when Charlie fixes the hem of her sleeve.

"Just wanted to check on you," Bill says with a smile. "We're almost there!"

It takes only a few more minutes for the train to completely stop and then we walk straight to the carriages – where I sit with Rowan, Charlie and Barnaby -, heading to the big familiar castle we all love and fear.

Who knows what waits for us…

* * *

The Great Hall is beautifully decorated with the usual flags bearing the Hogwarts coat of armor, but there's also a midnight blue sky, all dotted with tiny little starts, and also a big half-moon.

I take my usual seat next to Rowan and when the rest of the students finally find their places, the room gets full of animated conversations and anxious questions about the food. I begin to hear my stomach growling and hope that the Sorting Ceremony and Dumbledore's speech doesn't take too long.

"Hey," Rowan says. "Where's Tulip?"

My eyes fly over Ravenclaw's table, but I don't see Tulip's red hair anywhere.

"She was right behind us," I gasp.

"Maybe she stopped by the Hospital Wing," Rowan suggests. "Or is playing a prank somewhere."

"Let's hope so," I say, frightened with the very thought that we may have another episode like the one with Ben in our second year.

I glance at the teacher's table, quickly noticing an extremely beautiful woman sitting next to Professor Flitwick. She has long silver hair and very pale skin, looking like she was carved out of marble. She moves with delicacy and my dear Charms teacher seems to be looking at her with bewitched eyes.

"Must be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Rowan says, excited.

The main doors open, bringing a wave of first year students, all looking scared when hundreds of eyes turn to look at them. I smirk, remembering how nervous I felt and how only Rowan applauded when I was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Things do change, for sure.

Professor McGonagall unrolls her usual parchment scroll with the list of names and calls the first one, a little girl in pigtails called Layla Baker. She rushes to the small stool, anxiously waiting for the Sorting Hat to place her in one of the four houses.

"Slytherin!" the Hat announces, and from where I'm sitting I can see Barnaby applauding effusively, but also can see Merula and her crony Ismelda, both looking very cranky and unfriendly.

Some things never change.

"Jacob Bell!" my heart leaps when Professor McGonagall calls a boy with the same name as my brother.

The Hat seems to take longer to decide.

"Ravenclaw!" he announces and I feel my guts twisting with the thought of listening my brother's name more frequently.

The Ceremony continues and Ellie Rogers turns into a proud Hufflepuff, the twins Nora and Julian Long are separated into Gryffindor and Ravenclaw respectively and Oliver Wood rushes to the Gryffindor table with a happy smile. Bella Watson also becomes a Gryffindor and Julia Collins joins the Slytherin table. By the time the sorting ends, my stomach is almost turning pirouettes.

Professor McGonagall puts the stool away and my eyes are immediately drawn to a very beautiful red-head woman sitting right next to my Potions professor. She's very austere looking and her squinted eyes travel across the room. Professor Snape seems to be very bothered to be sitting beside her, because he keeps trying to sit as far away from her as possible.

All the chattering is silenced when Professor Dumbledore stands up, looking at us with kindness, his long white beard almost reflecting the lights of the thousands of floating candles.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts!" he says, his blue eyes shining behind the half-moon glasses. "An important part of your magical education is learning to identify an overcome danger in its many forms. Those of you who have been with us these past years may have already encountered cursed ice and Boggarts. Despite my warnings, a handful of you have disobeyed me and managed to enter and survive the Cursed Vaults," his eyes linger on me, but I sustain his stare. "The truth is that while we are your instructors, and it is our duty to keep you safe, we do not have every answer. We do not know where the next Cursed Vault lies… what it contains… what curse will be unleashed by those foolish enough to disturb it… That is why I sought out an expert… A renowned Curse-Breaker who has firsthand experience with the Cursed Vaults. Please help me welcome Patricia Rakepick."

The Great Hall explodes in ovations when the beautiful ginger woman stands up, one hand carelessly rested on her waist, and I feel completely gaped when I recognize her as the famous witch whose biography I gave Bill once.

"Thank you for the glowing introduction, Professor Dumbledore," she says with a crooked smile. "I was honestly shocked when he invited me back considering all of the trouble I gave him as a student. After graduating from Hogwarts, I became the Head Curse-Breaker at Gringotts Wizarding Bank," she winks at us. "As a student, I was convinced that the Cursed Vaults existed, but the faculty chose to ignore my warnings. Now that they've finally been forced to admit their mistake, I've returned to open the vaults and reveal their secrets."

I clench my jaw.

Yeah.

Like I'd ever let her find the vaults before me.

Oh, no.

Am I becoming like Merula?

"I may ask some of you to describe what you have witnessed," she continues. "I may even ask some of you to help with my investigations. But I will not tolerate your unsolicited interference. From this point on, you will stay away from the vaults, and stay out of my way."

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over the table. Patricia Rakepick finally sits and Dumbledore stands up again.

"Now," he says. "Let's rejoice with our delicious feast!"

Our new additions to the Ravenclaw table all gasp when they see the long table being magically filled with a huge variety of delicious food.

I'm about to eat another jacked potato when Rubeus enters the Great Hall, looking awfully worried. To my complete surprise, he walks straight to me.

"I see Patricia Rakepick hasn't changed a bit," he sighs. "Yeh'd be wise the watch out fer that one, Athena."

"Rubeus," I say. "Why weren't you here?"

"It's a long story," he says. "I hate teh interrupt yeh, but I need yer help."

"What's wrong?" I shriek, afraid it might have something to do with Tulip's whereabouts.

"Follow me," he says. "It'll be easier teh show you."

Rowan pokes me with her elbow, indicating the Gryffindor table.

"Take Ben with you," she says. "It looks like he's about to collapse."

And indeed, he does. Ben is eating slowly, with widened eyes, constantly looking over his shoulder, looking terribly pale.

"Do you mind if I take Ben, Rubeus?" I ask him.

"I don't care who yeh bring, Athena," he says. "As long as yeh hurry."

I follow Rubeus, quickly stopping by the Gryffindor table to tap Ben on the arm. He turns to me so fast that I'm afraid he may break his neck.

"Come with me, Ben," I say, offering my hand.

Rubeus takes us to the Clock Tower, directly to the Courtyard. I'm not sure why we are here, but then I see someone sitting by the fountain.

A girl with red hair and pale looking face.

 _Tulip._

"Tulip!" I exclaim. "What happened?"

She looks at me with frightened eyes and runs to me, locking me in a hug.

"I wish I knew," she cries. "I was right behind you on the train… but I must have dozed off or fainted or something… because when I woke up I was in the Forbidden Forest."

I feel shiver running all over my spine.

"I saw her walkin' towards the forest as I was getting' ready fer the feast," Rubeus says. "I tried teh stop her, but she was teh far away."

"I guess I was sleepwalking," she sighs.

"Madam Pomfrey mentioned sleepwalking students before," I say, running my fingers through my hair, feeling terribly uneasy.

"It must be another curse," Ben cries. "Madam Rakepick probably messed with the next vault."

"Do you know her?" I ask him and he contracts. "Is everything okay?"

"I know her enough to stay away from her," he shrieks.

"We can talk 'bout Patricia Rakepick later," Rubeus says. "Luckily, Tulip hit her head on a branch heading into the forest. Lots o' creatures in there would love teh feast on a sleepwalkin' student. I tried teh take her teh the Hospital Wing, but she wouldn't let me. She only wanted teh see yeh."

"Me?" I wonder. "Why not Tonks?"

"Tonks gets easily stressed out," she sighs. "I didn't want to worry her."

"It's okay, Rubeus," I say, smiling at him. "I'll take care of Tulip. Come on. Let's go to our Common Room."

"I'll catch up with you later," Ben says, nervously. "I'm expecting a letter."

She hooks her arm in mine, like Rowan usually does, and I hand her a Chocolate Frog so she doesn't sleep on an empty stomach.

"There was a map of the forest inside the last vault," she says while we're heading to Ravenclaw Tower. "This could be related."

"Perhaps," I say.

"And Ben's demeanor," she frowns. "Very suspicious."

 _Very suspicious, indeed._


	56. Year 4: Chapter 4 - What The Stars Said

**A/N:** What's up, my beautiful lovelies? How are you all doing in this rare sunny day in the cloudiest city ever? For those of you who live in Curitiba, you'll know what I'm talking about. Anyway, I wanna thank all the new followers and also everyone who's sending me sweet comments. It's awesome to know your opinions, your theories and to read all the wonderful things you say. My thesis is demanding a lot of my time, but I'll surely write more during my summer vacations. Specially because I'll have a new baby and it means I'll spend a lot of time indoors. No, I'm not pregnant. My hubbie and I will be welcoming a delightful baby Golden Retriever. I'll make sure to post pictures of him in my IG page, so stay tuned. But let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Four – What the Stars Said**

Despite Professor Dumbledore's warning and Patricia Rakepick's imposing presence haunting the castle, my first week back managed to turn out incredibly good.

Perhaps because our week started on a Wednesday and I got to meet our new breathtaking Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. She entered her classroom – light and airy, not at all like Professor Lorcan's – wearing pale lilac velvety robes and her long silver hair flawlessly braided.

Crystal Avalon.

That's her name.

She started her presentation with the sweetest of voices, almost hypnotizing, flickering her gorgeous heterochromatic eyes at us. Not only her name sounded absolutely melodic while coming out from her full lips, but all her accomplishments also made us even more dazzled about her presence.

"I see a lot of enchanted eyes today," she said with a gentle smile. "But do not be mistaken. The reason why so many of you may be feeling strangely... ethereal... is because I am not truly human."

Rowan looked at me with a frown.

Another inhuman teacher?

"As many of you have probably heard," she continued. "Veelas are semi-human magical beings, of extremely seductive aura and movements that almost look like a dance. Beware, though, because if any of you manage to upset me, you shall not like what you will see."

And just like that, with a glimpse of an explanation, she asked us all to accompany her to the school grounds for our first practical lesson of the year.

Under the bright sunlight, her skin looked almost translucent, glimmering beautifully at every step. She walked graciously over the grass, her long robes leaving a trail behind her, until she found a spot good enough, by the lake's edge. She then turned to face us, raising her wand up to the blue sky.

" _Aqua Eructo!_ " she said, almost like she was singing a very short song.

From her white wand, a sprout of water was conjured, falling like a fountain directly to the lake's black waters. The water continued to fall, very gentle at first, until its power was enhanced, turning into a strong waterfall.

"Self-explanatory, I believe," she said with a sweet smile. "But this charm is extremely useful. The water is drinkable, but also strong enough to put out fires. It may sound like a simple spell, but you never know what you may need in life. And water, being the preciosity that it is, cannot be denied."

Very graciously she taught us how to properly conjure the spell and the arm and wrist movement was mesmerizing. By the end of the class, we were all wet and happy, casting from simply rain droplets to powerful water jets.

" _Acer Aura!_ " she said with a flick of her wand and all our robes went completely dry and warm.

After that, Ancient Runes didn't seem merely as fascinating as our new Veela teacher and her dazzling magical powers.

* * *

The complete opposite from Professor Avalon's light and inviting class, the dungeons were as gloomy and humid as I remembered. The fire burning in the torches were the only provision of light in the grim environment and the shadows launched upon the stone walls formed almost haunting images.

Professor Snape, also completely different from our Veela teacher, didn't seem bothered by the dark atmosphere, walking around the classroom with his long black robes floating around his ankles. While brewing my Confusion Concoction, I found myself conflicted with the thought that I felt attracted by both the light and the darkness.

Once my potion was finished and carefully placed inside a labeled phial, I delivered it to Professor Snape's table. He stared at me with the same usual intensity, as if he was reading my mind, his young face very severe-looking.

"Your schedule, Miss Lockhart," he requested and I drew my schedule from my bag, handing it to him.

Deliberately he grabbed his black quill and made marks on Monday, Wednesday and Friday night, except on Friday our lessons would be two hours long.

Once again, we would be seeing each other almost every day.

He then handed me back my schedule and made a gesture to dismiss me.

As usual, I risked a look back before leaving the classroom, but he didn't look at me. So I left with Rowan, heading to the Greenhouses, where Professor Sprout taught us all about the Herbivicus Charm, which was supposed to increase the growth rate of the pumpkins, so they'd be big enough when Halloween arrived.

"So that explains the humongous pumpkins," Rowan said, but her smile immediately vanished when we walk by Ben, who was walking towards the Greenhouse to his Herbology class with Slytherin. To my utter concern, he looked more scared than usual. "He's hiding something. You can say whatever you want, Athie, but benefit of the doubt my arse. Ben is being extra suspicious and I'm positively sure that he's omitting something from us."

"It hurts to say so, but I agree with you, Row," I said. "Ben is one of our best friends, but he's acting very weird."

"Are you two talking 'bout Ben?" Tulip said, joining us, followed by Penny and Tonks.

"I'm worried that he seems to know Madam Rakepick," Penny said. "And he refuses to talk about her."

"Will we be able to trust him?" Rowan asked. "With our search for the vaults and stuff... and with Rakepick investigating... is it wise to trust him with our findings? What if he tells her everything?"

I bit my bottom lip and Tulip and Tonks shrugged when we separated by the Arithmancy classroom. They both turned the corridor, snickering about something while reading their little pranks book. Penny joined us in class, still looking very concerned.

Even though our first Arithmancy class was pretty difficult – with a bunch of tables full of numbers and their meanings – I still managed to feel awful, with Ben's sweet face popping in my head several times. I caught myself reaching for the little lion charm in my bracelet, swallowing hard with the thought of him keeping secrets from us.

Everyone has secrets, I guess. And perhaps it is wise or even healthy to keep some of them sometimes. But it didn't feel like it's the case. I thought about when he was trapped inside the cursed ice for months and how he said he didn't remember anything.

Was he lying back then as he seems to be doing now?

Oh, Ben...

What's going on with you?

* * *

Matt requested for a meeting in the dressing rooms to discuss the Quidditch trials.

"Just because you were on the team last year, doesn't mean you'll be again," he said, very seriously. "Just kidding, of course you will. I put on a flier asking for a new chaser and a new keeper."

The trials are scheduled to Saturday, September 12th. I looked to my fellow team mates – the ones still remaining – and wondered if I'd still be the only girl in the team by the end of the month.

Ben didn't sit next to Rowan and I during Charms class, returning to his usual seat on the other side of the classroom. Charlie, on the other hand, sat next to Rowan and even helped her with the wrist movement when Professor Flitwick taught us about the Summoning Charm.

I rested my head on my hand, thinking of Chester and wondering if the new Prefects, Audrey and Taylor, will be as inspiring as my mentor. Though Ravenclaw has other Prefects and also the Head Boy and Girl, Chester managed to leave a piece of him with me. I grabbed my wand, instantly remembering when he taught me about _Accio._ I hope I become a good mentor to his brother Roger when he comes to Hogwarts.

And I also hope the Cursed Vaults aren't a threat anymore.

I met Ben again, by the stairs leading to the Divination classroom. I was hoping to sit next to him, like we did during our whole third year, but he sat alone on the other side of the classroom, leaving me to sit with the new student, Barnaby. Ben didn't even look at me during the whole lesson about Astrology, while Barnaby seemed to be very excited to make my star chart.

"Gemini with Sagittarius ascendancy," he said, tracing the lines to connect the planets. "According to this chapter, you can be a very contradictory person, because of your tendency to see all the sides of the same situation and because of your habit to talk to yourself."

He ran his finger, bearing a big silver ring, over the lines of the thick pages of the book.

"It says you can see clearly all the pros and cons of every situation," he blinked his green eyes at me. "What are the pros and cons of being my friend?"

I found myself talking to myself again.

The pros? You're incredibly handsome...

The cons? I honestly can't find any.

I didn't answer, simply finishing his chart and heading to the book to check my results.

"Pisces with Lion ascendancy," I said. "It says you alter between submission and authority... that people find you hard to define... you can be very docile sometimes, but can also behave like a furious lion... the cold and the hot alternate in your colorful soul."

He smirked at me and I felt my legs melting. Good thing I was sitting down...

* * *

Professor Trelawney asked us to practice the solar charts and make a new one about one of our friends. I headed to the dungeons to my first Potions private lesson of the year, thinking about Ben and what his star chart said. Could Astrology truly be revealing?

As usual, I arrived before the agreed time, but found Professor Snape already separating the necessary ingredients, distractedly humming a song that sounded like Greensleaves.

"You're early," he said, not looking at me.

"And you still sound very surprised," I said, approaching to read the instructions in the book opened next to the cauldron. "Alihotsy Draught."

"Induces hysteria," he said, handing me a jar full of small looking livers. "Know what this is?"

"Livers," I said. "And by the size, they probably belonged to pixies or doxies."

"Doxies," he said. "Your former Dark Arts _leech_ left us with a bunch of these little demons to hunt. Thankfully, their body parts are extremely useful."

"I can see that," I frowned. "I'll slice them right away."

He cleared his throat, indicating the word "slice", which he had crossed, and an arrow pointing to a handwritten word: "Macerate".

"Gross," I sighed, taking the livers to the mortar and squashing five of them with the stone pistil. They made a very disgusted sound as they became a gory paste, releasing a terrible reek. I waited for Professor Snape to add the frog brains before adding the disgusting paste to the cauldron. "This potion looks loathsome."

He released a subtle snicker before adding a few drops of Morning Dew Honey.

"Is this supposed to make it taste better?" I asked and got surprised to see him open a smile. "You seem to be in a very good mood today, Professor."

He looked at me from the corner of his eyes and then looked back to the boiling green potion.

"It is rather lamentable to teach young minds that are disdainful of the refined practice that is potion making," he said. "So it's very stimulating to teach someone who shows the proper appreciation to what I have to teach. Even though it is, in fact, a revolting potion."

The potion took the longest time to cook, so Professor Snape entertained himself by organizing all the ingredients in his office and left me alone in the classroom to use the time to make my Divination essay.

"Why are you taking this class?" he asked me. "It is-"

"A vague form of magic," I said. "I know. Rowan said it too."

"And yet, you are studying... astrology," he said, looking at my clear star chart.

"Indeed," I said, simply. "Could you provide me with some information so I can get this done?"

He looked over my shoulder to the little form to be filled at the top of the page and frowned.

"Wouldn't it be wiser to ask your friends for their information?" he asked.

"Are you afraid of what the stars may say about you, sir?" I raised my brows.

He groaned and grabbed my quill, dipping it in the ink and completing the blank spaces with his usual intricate penmanship.

 _Severus Snape_

 _January 9_ _th_ _, 1960_

 _3 a.m._

 _Cokeworth, England_

It took a while for me to finish tracing the chart and I noticed the planets have an inclination towards Scorpio, Sagittarius and Capricorn – whatever that's supposed to mean – and I opened the Astrology chapter to begin my essay about what does it all tells me.

He's a Capricorn with Scorpio ascendancy, which could begin to explain his introspective, cold and distant personality, but a bunch of crossed information made me frown.

 _You dedicate time and energy to the things that interest you, with an intensity that makes people fascinated._

I raised my eyes when I saw him coming back to the cauldron to stir it a little bit. There was a subtle smile on his lips and that made me smile too.

 _Fascinating, indeed._

I ran my finger over a particularly interesting paragraph.

 _Scorpio, with its Martian quality, lends you a courage and intensity that generally aren't very common in Capricorn. The result is a warrior personality, armored, resistant to both physical and psychological difficult situations. The problem regards to the excess of all these qualities: your natural defense armor may become anguish and paranoia and you may see enemies everywhere. This excess of mistrust it's part of both Capricorn and Scorpio's nature and you must need to moderate it. There aren't always special plots unrolling and you must learn to give people your vow of trust._

I looked at him again, now back to his office, and I could see him from the opened door. He seemed pretty severe looking and very intense for just a twenty seven year old man.

 _Both Capricorn and Scorpio are survivors. The goat climbs the mountain under snow or under sun, and the scorpions walk better over stony grounds than smooth ones. This may translate – in a negative way – in a type of "addiction to battles". The person is so used with conflict that doesn't quote know what to do when all goes well. When not sufficiently mature, the person with his astrological pattern ends simply complicating what was once simple, creating enemies and causing trouble only to have what to fight against. Nothing a little reflection and conscience can't change. But, first it's important to have conscience of this process, which already is fifty steps towards changing, of the development of a softer personality, less cynical and moody._

I dipped my pen in the ink and began writing all these information under his star chart, actually very pleased about the things I had uncovered. Of course, Divination and its Astrology side are, in fact, very vague forms of predicting things, but sometimes the sentences just seemed to make sense.

 _Natural connection with power... Incredible willpower... Will tend to go through a thousand deaths in just one life... Careful with the tendency of invoking an autocratic role... The games don't always have to do the way you want..._

I finished my essay, putting everything back in my bag and checked my wrist watch. The boiling potion was starting to become the correct color and Professor Snape left his office to join me. He added one single leech and the mixture became slimy green.

We began to pour the potion in separate flasks and I started labeling them, placing them all inside a box.

"What did the stars reveal about me?" he asked, monotonously.

"Nothing I already didn't know," I said, simply. "Apparently, Mars was in Scorpio when you were born."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, with a frown.

"Why do you care?" I asked, amused, placing the last flask inside the box. "Isn't Astrology just a vague form of magic?"

He snorted and grabbed the box, taking it to his office. I used _Scourgify_ to clean and cauldron and returned the bottles of ingredients back to the shelf. He came back to the classroom, tall and imposing with his black robes, and crossed his arms behind his back.

"You are dismissed, Miss Lockhart," he said, smoothly. "I'll see you on Monday."

He then returned to his office and closed the door, leaving my alone in the dark and humid classroom. I made a gesture to extinguish the light on the torches – a trick I was trying to perfect – and left to the Great Hall, happy to have these lessons again.


	57. Year 4: Chapter 5 - Fragile Friendship

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! How are you all doing today? I have very exciting news to share with you! This fanfiction will finally go through the meticulous eyes of my lovely **Beta**! Thank you, **Rina** , for being a part of this and helping this story become even better! I hope you guys enjoy the way the story will be from now on, because I'm sure it's different, but amazing! I also wanna thank all the new followers and everyone who's leaving sweet comments! And **Spring Blaze** , please make an account so I can reply to your reviews! I loved your ideas for the story. Anyway, as you guys already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Five – Fragile Friendship**

Ben continued to ignore us throughout the following week and seemed to become only more nervous whenever Rakepick was around. Her austere presence frightened nearly every student who happened to be walking through the same corridors as she, in fact, though it didn't seem to bother my favorite Potions professor, who simply walked past her with an indifferent expression.

The second Saturday of September brings a bit of relaxation to my heart as it finally dawns upon the castle. Trying to avoid thoughts of Ben, I walk by Rowan's bed – still sound asleep and hugging her pillow while moaning Charlie's name – and head to the Great Hall for an early breakfast.

Matt seems to be very excited for the trials, eagerly showing us all the names on the sign-up sheet he had previously pinned to the bulletin board.

"Barnes... Ross... Stewart... very promising names," he says. "I hope we can find a good Chaser and Keeper today. I really want to win the Quidditch Cup again!"

"So do we, Matt," says Andre, who is wearing a big bright smile and biting into his toast.

We go down to the pitch, where we meet fifteen hopeful Ravenclaws, all excited at the possibility of joining the team. It makes me feel a little weird, because I didn't have any competition when I tried out for the team, and it somehow seems a little unfair – among these fifteen could be a better seeker than I am.

There are six Ravenclaws trying out for the Keeper position, so we split everything into three rounds with five competitors each. We start with Tony Taylor and Penelope Murphy each guarding one end of the pitch, while Ella Brown, Justin Garcia, and Jackson Watson try to score points. Andre and Matt spend the "match" trying to hit them with the Bludgers, and they have until I find the Snitch to show us their best.

Then it's Link Barnes and Cole Davis as Keepers, and Lizzie Brooks, Abby Jones, and Skylar Morris as Chasers. It feels good to be in the air again, chasing the small golden ball while watching how my fellow Ravenclaws perform on a broom.

Last but not least, Ava Jenkins and Jeffrey Phillips take to the air as Keepers, and Liam Ross, Jack Stewart, and Peyton Lewis try their luck at the Chaser position. I begin to feel a little tired as the day wears on, and my stomach starts to rumble, but nevertheless I manage to glimpse the Snitch hovering right by Ava's arm and she shrieks in surprise when I rush towards her, hiding her face with her arms and subsequently letting in a goal from Jack Stewart. I assume she will not be taking over the Keeper position.

When tryouts are complete, we all land in a circle around Matt, who looks around, grinning, his hair windswept.

"Thank you all for trying out," he says, very diplomatically. "We'll send you an owl by Friday to let you guys know our decision."

I put away my broom and walk over to meet Rowan and Tulip for lunch in the Great Hall, where I notice Addison and Emma talking excitedly while blinking in a flirtatious way in the direction of my Quidditch Captain.

"What's up with them?" Rowan asks.

"Not all of us have men running after us, Khanna," Tulip says with a wink.

"Speaking of Charlie," Rowan says, blushing. "He asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him next weekend... just the two of us."

"It's finally gonna happen!" Tulip says, grabbing a plum and kissing it exaggeratedly. "Oh, Charlie, your lips are _so_ soft!"

"I'm gonna stick that plum in your–"

"Don't you _want_ to kiss him?" I ask, sipping my iced tea.

Rowan sighs.

"I do," she says. "I just... I'm afraid I'm not very good at it."

"I can't give you any advice in this department," I say, shrugging. "I can just say... go with it. I mean... I guess you're both very inexperienced. Maybe you can learn these things... together."

"Maybe," she says, dismayed.

I glance over at the Gryffindor table, where Charlie is chatting happily with his friend Ethan, and my eyes skip over to Ben, who is sitting silently by himself several seats away, eating mechanically with an expression of distress. I bite my bottom lip nervously, wondering what's going on with him.

* * *

After lunch, Rowan and I wander over to sit by the fountain in the Courtyard and Barnaby is quick to join us.

"I grabbed this book from the library," he says happily, showing us the book about magical creatures. "It tastes a bit weird, to be honest."

Rowan looks at me with a raised eyebrow, and I can't help but snicker.

Barnaby is adorable.

"Hey, guys!" Bill says, approaching us with a big smile. "What's up?"

"Just chilling," I say, and then I see Charlie rushing towards us.

"You walk too fast," he says, breathless. "Oh, hey, Rowan."

I notice Rowan begins to rip apart the little Chocolate Frog box in her hands, looking incredibly nervous and flushed.

"Bill, I've been wanting to talk to you," I say, crossing my legs. "As a Prefect and a Gryffindor, have you noticed something strange 'bout Ben?"

Bill scratches his chin pensively.

"Well, Copper always behaves strangely," he says. "But yeah, he seems to be extra weird this year. Why?"

"I... I don't know," I sigh. "It's just a feeling."

"What do you mean?"

"Ben's been acting strange whenever Rakepick is around," I say. "I don't know... maybe I'm being paranoid."

"Maybe not," Rowan says.

"Are you guys... suspicious... _of Ben_?" Barnaby asks curiously.

"It's just... Ben said he doesn't remember anything about the cursed ice incident," I say. "But no one else lost their memories. And now he seems to be so nervous with Rakepick around... I'm just afraid we may not be able to trust him."

"He could tell Rakepick our plans," Rowan says. "And then we'd be screwed."

"Do you really think he could do such thing?" Charlie asks. "I mean... I share the dorm with Ben... he's a very nice guy. Bit cowardly, but nice nevertheless."

"I know," I sigh. "I'm probably being silly."

The weekend ends smoothly, though Ben doesn't join in on any of our activities. We watch Barnaby and Charlie play Gobstones near the lake on Sunday and eat a bunch of caramels while talking about Quidditch.

"I hope I'm accepted to the Slytherin team," Barnaby says, lying down and resting his head on my legs. I blush furiously, but he doesn't seem to notice. "I promise not to throw any Bludgers at you, Athena."

"Don't worry about me," I say. "I'm sure Andre and Matt won't let any of your Bludgers hit me."

That night, I dream of Ben. It's an odd dream, where he keeps throwing a bunch of letters into the fire in the Gryffindor common room. I watch him burn letter after letter, until Professor McGonagall enters and yells at me for invading another house's common room.

On Monday morning, I head to the choir room, enjoying the loneliness of the corridor, when I hear Rakepick's voice.

"Where did you find him?" she asks sharply.

I hear several sets of footsteps approaching the corridor where I'm standing, and I instinctively hide behind a statue.

"Approaching the Forbidden Forest," Professor Snape says. "Dumbledore asked us to keep watch around the perimeter."

"How many sleepwalking students have you found?" she asks.

"Seven," he says, and I press my lips together nervously.

"Since you started teaching at Hogwarts?" Rakepick asks, exasperated.

"Since the start of this school year," he says, bored.

"It's the curse," she says. "Someone has tampered with another Cursed Vault."

"I'll assume that someone was you," he hisses.

"You still don't trust me after all these years, Severus?" Rakepick giggles. "Could it be that you're jealous?"

"Is it arrogance or insecurity that makes you misinterpret my genuine disdain?" he asks coldly.

"Slither back to your dark closet full of jars and frog parts," she spits and I find myself gaping. _Who does she think she is?_ "Leave the important matters to an expert."

"I'm going to deliver this child to the Hospital Wing," he says.

"Dumbledore charged _me_ with anything having to do with the Cursed Vaults."

"If you can manage to keep your mouth shut, we can walk there together."

I hear them walking away and I feel my heart beating heavily inside my chest. It takes a while for me to finally calm down enough to go to choir practice. I find it hard to concentrate on the song we're learning to perform for Halloween, but Professor Flitwick doesn't seem to notice.

" _In the cauldron boil and bake... fillet of a fenny snake... scale of dragon, tooth of wolf... witches, mummy, maw and gulf_ ," I sing, feeling terribly anxious and dying to tell Rowan what I just heard.

I finally catch her as we're walking across the grounds to Professor Kettleburn's class, where we bump into Bill, who is screaming at some first year Slytherins.

"I'm gonna report you guys to Professor Snape, you little snakes!" he yells as the kids rush towards the castle. He turns to us. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Rakepick and Snape found another sleepwalking student," I tell them hurriedly. "They think it's a curse caused by someone messing with a vault."

"Merula? Rita Skeeter?" Rowan asks.

"Snape suggested it was Rakepick herself," I say. "Also, they don't seem to like each other much."

"Professor Snape doesn't like someone? _I don't believe it!_ " Bill smiles saucily.

"It'll be really hard this year," I sigh. "With Rakepick around, I'm not sure how we'll be able to find the next vault. And the sleepwalking students are in big danger."

"Well, Charlie goes in the forest all the time," Bill shrugs. "I went with him once... it was awful. But I suppose he could help us."

I ponder this the rest of the way to class, but the sight of Patricia Rakepick standing next to Professor Kettleburn immediately erases everything from my mind.

She seems to be talking seriously to Kettleburn while holding something furry in her arms. When we approach, she glares at us intently, her lips twisting, as if she couldn't be more disgusted to be around a bunch of teenagers.

"Morning, everyone!" Professor Kettleburn says with a smile, clearly not noticing her expression. His one hazel eye shines in our direction and I can't help but wonder what lies underneath the eyepatch covering his other eye. "Today we have a special guest! I want you all to give a warm welcome to Sickleworth, this delightful Niffler!"

Rakepick places the furry creature she was holding on the floor and I hear Charlie release an excited shriek. The little creature resembles a platypus. It has black, fluffy fur, a long snout, and seems rather harmless.

"Nifflers are attracted to shiny things," Professor Kettleburn explains. "So beware of your jewelry, kids. Nifflers are wonderful treasure seekers, but they also can wreak havoc if kept indoors. They are usually assigned to Curse-Breakers at Gringotts to burrow underground in search of treasures hidden in cursed sites."

The little Niffler blinks up at us and looks back at Rakepick.

"They have a pouch on their bellies," Professor Kettleburn continues, "which hold almost as much as a container enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. If any of you miss a ring, watch, or anything similar, don't worry. We'll search our little friend before class is over." He smiles at us and Rakepick snorts in disapproval. "However, this is the most well-behaved Niffler I've ever encountered. Likely due to Patricia being a strict disciplinarian, and suffering no foolishness even from creatures. Now, while handling a Niffler, you should be ready to cast _Reparo_.Part of caring for a Niffler is repairing the damage they do to people's property."

"Oh my God, he's so cute I could squeeze him until his snout pops off!" Barnaby says excitedly.

Rakepick flashes him a very mean stare.

"But I won't," he adds nervously.

Rakepick doesn't seem very happy to leave her beloved Niffler in our care, but she finally relinquishes it to Professor Kettleburn and walks off toward the castle, looking very disdainful.

Charlie is the most excited to be handling a Niffler. He's the first one to offer to hold it, pet it, and feed it, while the rest of us take notes.

Ben doesn't seem to be very excited to deal with the Niffler at all, and he simply melts into the back, behind all the other students, nervously biting his nails. I consider approaching him, but every time our eyes cross, he looks away.

The Niffler is actually a very sweet creature and extremely easy to handle. Sickleworth, as Rakepick called him, doesn't seem at all bothered to be watched and poked by a bunch of curious students. Ben seems relieved when the class ends before he has a chance to get near Sickleworth, and he heads straight to the castle as soon as the bell rings, completely ignoring Rowan and I.

I sit with her by the edge of the lake, enjoying the sunrays kissing my skin, and watch Bill scolding some Gryffindors who are trying to feed the Giant Squid.

"Bill really takes his job seriously," I say.

"Charlie also wants be a Prefect," Rowan tells me. "Probably would make it easier for him to sneak into the Forbidden Forest."

"How are you feeling about your date on Saturday?" I ask her.

"I'm trying not to think about it," she says. "I don't know what to wear... what to think... how to behave... Honestly, I'm just afraid I may… _attack_ him."

"Attack him?" I frown. "How so?"

"You know... rush into it. Like... I don't know," she sighs.

"You're afraid you may eat his face?" I giggle.

She moans, lying down on the grass, covering her face with her hands.

"Why does it have to be so hard?"

"Maybe it doesn't," I shrug. "I never kissed anyone before, but... perhaps it's best if you just go with it. Don't overthink it."

"Easier said than done."

"Yeah," I say, rolling my turquoise ring around my middle finger. "Like talking to Ben... I'm really worried about him."

She opens her eyes, resting on her elbows, and gives me a serious look.

"There's nothing we can do right now," she says. "Ben won't tell us the truth. And I've been thinking about it. I think Rakepick is the mysterious R who wrote him the letters and drew the map of the forest."

"Why?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"In addition to the obvious initial, the tone of the letter matches her tone during the start of the term feast," she explains. "We know she's interested in the Cursed Vaults and that letter sent Ben to the corridor that led to the Ice Vault. I'm not sure if Ben really is our friend, Athie. He's clearly hiding something... and I don't know if it's to protect us anymore."

I feel an awful pressure in my heart, like it's being squeezed. I swallow hard to prevent the tears, because I know it's useless to cry over it.

"We already confronted him about it," I say. "Though I'm terribly afraid, I also want to take him at his word. But I keep on thinking about something my grandparents' lawyer said. That everyone's guilty till proven otherwise."

"Clever words," Rowan says.

"But I agree with you," I sigh. "Rakepick does seem like the most likely suspect to be R... though I still have my suspicions about Rita Skeeter."

"The letter mentioned severe consequences for disobeying. What will happen if Rakepick finds out that we're trying to find the next vault?"

"I've thought about it too," I say. "And I decided I won't put you all in danger again for a burden that's my own. I'll do it alone this time… so when the consequences find me, I'll bear them alone."

Rowan looks at me with compassion and I can see the concern in her dark eyes.

"I admit I wasn't exactly dying to enter the forest myself," she confesses with a bashful smile. "But I suppose there are other ways we could help you."

My eyes are drawn to the dark surface of the lake, where the Giant Squid is stretching its tentacles across the shimmering water. The trees around it seem to cast foreboding shadows over the surface of the lake, and I feel a bit nervous about the perspective of venturing inside those woods.

"Sometimes I wonder if we're not being too hasty... in not trusting Rakepick," I say.

"We're not," Rowan says quickly. "She's fearless, but she also inspires a lot of fear. And she's made it clear that she doesn't want anyone else looking for the vaults. I'm not sure she cares that Jacob may have something to do with it. I think her motives are far more selfish."

"I suppose," I say. "Dumbledore said she has first-hand experience with the vaults. If Ben's really talking to her, and he's aware of all our plans, she'll know what we're up to and everything will be ruined."

"So... guilty till proven otherwise," she says. "Both of them. And that means–"

"We'll have to leave Ben in the dark," I sigh. "We won't talk about the vaults in front of him anymore. Not until we're sure he's not in cahoots with Rakepick."

"You said Snape doesn't seem to like her."

"Dislike sounds too bland. I think _despise_ is a better word."

"And do you trust his judgment?"

I look at her and nod.

"Then talk to him," she says. "See what else you can find out about her."

My hands move from my ring to the little cauldron charm Penny gave me, and I wonder if Professor Snape can actually provide some important information about the mighty Curse-Breaker.

I sigh.

There's only one way to find out.


	58. Year 4: Chapter 6 - Making Sherlock Holm

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! How are you all doing? I wanna thank you guys so much for all the support! You are truly the best readers. So first, I'd like to send a big shout out to my wonderful **Beta** , **Rina a.k.a iNiGmA**. And I'd also like to thank my sweet readers who are sending me kind messages: **Spring Blaze** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **serendipitymadness** , **James** , **jurassicpotterfan1497** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** and **10868letsgo**. It makes me incredibly happy to know you guys are enjoying the story. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Six – Making Sherlock Homes proud**

The afternoon classes seem to take forever to end and I find myself looking at the clock nervously, consumed with what I may discover about Rakepick. Dumbledore said he wanted to hear her opinion about the vaults... and about me. But she hasn't spoken to me yet and somehow I feel thankful for it. I honestly have no desire to get to know her, or to bond with her, or to help her in any way.

Though I arrive to the dungeon early, as usual, Professor Snape is already waiting for me with several ingredients lined up next to the cauldron. I drop my bag randomly on a desk as I approach him and look at the flask of fire seeds, the small phial of moondew, and a bowl full of something that looks like rose thorns.

"Are we brewing a Burn-Healing Paste today, sir?" I ask as he puts a bottle of salamander blood and a container of arnica syrup next to the other ingredients.

"Unquestionably," he says, adding a basic solution to the cauldron and prodding the fire beneath it to heat it up.

"I find it remarkable," I say, "how fire seeds can actually heal burning injuries instead of causing them when they're combined with cooling agents."

"Yes," he says simply. "Now, tell me the properties of salamander blood."

"It has healing and rejuvenating properties," I answer, and the corners of his lips twitch in an almost-smile.

"Let us begin," he says, handing me the instructions.

I spend the first thirty minutes of our lesson answering his questions without contributing anything of my own while concentrating on adding and mixing the ingredients. After most everything has been added to the cauldron, however, and the potion is simmering, I can no longer hold my tongue.

"Professor," I begin cautiously, "I'd like to ask you something."

"About potion making?"

"Well... no."

He looks at me with his jet-black eyes and frowns, waiting.

"I'd like to ask you about Patricia Rakepick," I say.

"Why? Is she disturbing your reckless search for the Cursed Vaults?" he says, smirking.

I swallow hard and he continues to look at me sharply, his stare more intense than ever, which leaves me to assume that he already knows the answer.

"I just want to know if she's a friend or a threat," I mumble.

His eyes shift downward to the bubbling cauldron and he takes a deep breath and clears his throat before speaking.

"Patricia Rakepick was a fifth year student when I began my schooling at Hogwarts," he says.

So that means she's over thirty.

"She was beloved by nearly all of her classmates and despised by nearly all of the faculty," he continues.

"Why?"

I add the fire seeds to the mixture, and sneak a glance up at him once more.

"Because she questioned everything, and broke school rules at every opportunity," he says firmly. "She was a danger to everyone at Hogwarts and threatened the very principles upon which this school was built." He looks away from the cauldron at last and locks eyes with me. There is a smirk upon his face. "In other words, _she was just like you._ "

I let out a nervous giggle. "Do you trust her?"

His face twists into a scowl.

"Dumbledore trusts her," he says sharply. "It would be unwise to question his judgment, without substantial evidence."

"I'll take that as a no then," I say with a crooked smile.

"Of course I don't trust her!" he exclaims. "She's an arrogant, self-righteous twit! If you uncover any said evidence, bring it directly to me."

I nod and he seems to relax a bit. We both look at the potion, which is a very pale gray. As I watch, he takes the bottle of fire seeds from my hands and adds one more to the cauldron. The potion bubbles and turns darker. Professor Snape silently takes the parchment of instructions he gave me earlier, and with his quill he scratches out a line which read: _six fire seeds,_ and writes _seven_ right above it.

I remain quiet as I watch him add the arnica syrup to the mixture. The potion instantly thickens until it resembles a pomade.

"Now it must cook for ten more minutes," he says simply. "Could you help me put the ingredients back on the shelves?"

"Of course."

As the cauldron simmers, I grab bottles and phials and put them back in their proper places in silence. When the paste is finally cooked, we separate it into several containers and label them carefully.

"Could you take these to Madam Pomfrey?" he asks.

"Right away, sir," I say, smiling.

As I head out, several containers of Burn-Healing Paste tucked safely into my bag, I'm quite sure I hear him mutter, " _Trusting Rakepick... honestly._ "

I grin.

* * *

To my complete astonishment, the hospital wing is entirely full. It isn't Quidditch season and I wouldn't have thought so many students could inflict self-damage in just a couple of weeks.

"Madam Pomfrey?" I say, my voice somewhat surprised, as I walk up to meet her.

"Are you here for some period potions?" she asks in a harried tone. "Anti-bleeding? Cramps?"

"No, Madam," I say. "I just came to deliver these Burn-Healing Pastes from Professor Snape."

"Ah, right," she says, sighing in relief. "So you're the brilliant student Severus has been teaching. Okay, wonderful. Leave them there on that counter."

I watch her run from student to student, looking very distressed, as I deposit the potions. She pauses momentarily, resting her hand against a nightstand, and takes several deep breaths.

"Madam?" I say carefully. "This is probably a stupid question, but is everything all right?"

"Huh?" She glances at me in confusion. "Oh, dear, yes. Yes, I reckon I have everything under control."

She walks hurriedly to a nearby cabinet and grabs a potion, but her hands are shaking slightly, and the bottle slips from her grasp. It tumbles to the ground, where it shatters to smithereens, leaving a growing puddle of purplish liquid at her feet.

"Oh, dear Merlin," she says, frustrated. She grabs a handkerchief and wipes the sweat from her forehead.

"Please, let me," I say, approaching her and drawing my wand to repair the bottle. Unfortunately, I can't save the spilled potion. "You aren't well. Is there anything I can do?"

"Oh, dear," she says, looking at me with her bluish eyes. "I didn't mean to worry you. Things are just a little bit hectic."

"Why are there so many students here?"

"It's the sleepwalking curse," she says, brushing non-existent dust from her apron. "There are affected students being brought here every day."

I bite my lip nervously. "From the Forbidden Forest?"

"How do you know?" she says, frowning.

I clench my hands into fists and hide them hurriedly behind my back so she doesn't see I'm getting nervous.

"Rumor has it that the sleepwalking students always head to the same place," I say.

"I see." She sighs, straightening her white peaked hat over her brownish hair, which I now see is sprinkled with silver. She looks so awfully exhausted; as if she's aged years since I've seen her last.

"Let me to help," I say. "I can assist you in my free time."

Her eyes glimmer in my direction and a relieved smile flashes momentarily across her face.

"You truly are the wonderful girl everyone says," she smiles. "I would be delighted to have your assistance, Miss Lockhart. But for now, please go have dinner. I have everything under control."

I flash her a reassuring smile and she turns back to her patients, so I leave the hospital wing and head to the Great Hall, trying to keep my face composed. But the truth is, I'm freaking out.

Another curse has been unleashed and this time it will truly endanger us all. This is far, far worse than cursed ice or random boggarts. The Forbidden Forest is a dangerous place. And I'm terribly afraid that the creatures who reside there won't care if the next person who wanders in is a sleepwalking student, as long as they're an easy meal.

* * *

On Tuesday, I head straight to the hospital wing after Transfiguration while Rowan scampers off to the library with Charlie to "study" about the Forbidden Forest.

The mood in the ward is somewhat chaotic. There are a lot of students still there and most of the beds are full. Several students are merely sporting bruises, but several are bleeding profusely.

"Miss Lockhart," Madam Pomfrey says, rushing in my direction. "I'm so glad you came. Here, put on this apron."

She hands me a white apron, just like hers. "Do you feel confident using the Healing Charm?"

I nod. "Absolutely."

"Wonderful. Then please walk around the ward and help any of the students with minor injuries."

As soon as she finishes speaking, she turns on her heel and rushes to an adjacent room, quickly returning with several potion bottles. I put on the apron and glance around, wondering where to start. The first person I walk to is a young boy who looks absolutely terrified. From his green robes, I can tell he's a Slytherin.

"Hi," I say, trying to look friendly. "I'm Athena. What's your name?"

"O-Owen," he mumbles. He's nearly shaking with fear. "A-Are you a nurse?"

I giggle. "No, not yet."

"Are you Ravenclaw Prefect?" he asks.

"I'm not," I say, grinning. "I'm just a fourth year student. But I'm not holding my breath for next year. I think my friend Rowan would make a much better Prefect than me."

He risks a smile, still trembling.

"Don't worry, Owen," I say. "Everything will be okay."

I grab my wand and his eyes widen. He presses his lips together but seems too afraid to speak.

" _Episkey!_ " I say and the long cut on his knee closes instantly. " _Scourgify_!" The blood vanishes from his robes. He stares at me in astonishment.

"Cool, right?" I say.

He finally smiles, glancing down at his leg. "Thank you."

"How did you get this cut?"

"I don't know," Owen sighs. "I woke up in the Forbidden Forest. A giant man took me out of there."

"You mean Rubeus," I say. "He's very cool. Now, please rest for a bit so I can make sure you're good to go."

He does as I ask and watches me as I help the other patients. Some of them need blood-replenishing potions while some only need to be checked for injuries, fevers, or concussions. Madam Pomfrey approaches me from time to time to check on me, and to assist as needed. By dinner time, the hospital wing is far emptier than before.

"I cannot thank you enough, Miss Lockhart," she says, smiling kindly at me. "I'll be sure to speak to Professor Dumbledore and tell him how you took the initiative to jump in and help out. I'm sure he'll want to reward you with–"

"Please," I say. "There's no need to give me house points. I'm just happy to help!" And speaking to the affected students in hopes of getting information about the sleepwalking curse certainly doesn't hurt either. Not that I have an agenda, or anything.

"Well, it truly is wonderful to be assisted by such a kind young witch," she says. "Now, we can only hope that Patricia Rakepick starts doing her job before the entire school ends up in the forest."

"If I may ask, Madam," I say carefully. "What do you mean by ' _start doing her job'_?"

Madam Pomfrey snorts, wiping her palms on her apron.

"I've known Patricia ever since she was a student," she says. "A troublemaker, that one. She's clearly too busy trying to uncover new secrets within the castle to bother with breaking the curses she's meant to break. If she doesn't start doing her job soon, there will be nothing to prevent our students from getting in danger."

Her words weigh heavily on me all night. When I awake, the first thing on my mind is a burning desire to find out more about Rakepick. I have choir practice first thing, and I head there early, intent on asking Professor Flitwick about her. The choir room is thankfully empty with the exception of the tiny professor.

"Professor," I say, closing the door behind me.

"Good morning, Miss Lockhart," he says with a kind smile.

"Good morning, sir," I smile. "I... I'd like to ask you something."

"Of course, of course!"

"I'd like to ask you about Madam Rakepick... and what you think of her," I say.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"I just want to know if she's trustworthy."

He glances at me, as if he is sizing me up, and rolls the baton between his hands. He does not respond right away, and I wait patiently, hoping I haven't overstepped.

"Like me, you have been scrutinized since the minute you stepped foot in this castle, Miss Lockhart," he says finally. "Should we be doing the same to Madam Rakepick?"

I swallow hard, instantly feeling very bad for my behavior.

"We want people to be simple, because it makes them easy to judge, but the truth is, people are complex," he says.

"You're saying... I should trust her?" I ask, twirling a lock of hair around my finger.

"I'm used to being judged by strangers," he says, "so I'm always inclined to give people the benefit of the doubt."

"Yes, sir," I say, not quite happy with his response. Somehow, I was expecting him to say she's a horrible person... but then again, that wouldn't be very Flitwick-like.

After the practice, I leave the choir room with conflicted thoughts. I trust both Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape, but Flitwick seems to be biased towards her, just because he's used to being judged by strangers.

I sigh, internally hating everyone who could possibly bully Flitwick, but also contradicting myself for judging Rakepick.

 _Doesn't matter,_ I decide. _I don't trust her, period._

* * *

The rest of the week seems to fly by, but I manage to go back to the hospital wing and help Madam Pomfrey again on Thursday. Though there are less students there than before, she confides that there are sleepwalking students being found every day.

"Unharmed, thankfully," she says, sighing in relief.

On Friday, I head to the changing rooms to meet the Quidditch team for the first practice of the year. Our new Chaser, Liam Ross, and Keeper, Link Barnes, are waiting for me along with the rest of the team

"It'll be a pleasure to play alongside you guys," Link says chivalrously.

"Athena, could you grab the box with the balls?" Matt asks, reaching for his broom.

I nod and head to the equipment room, where I find Madam Hooch polishing her broom. She fixes her yellow eyes on me and smiles.

"Practicing already? You Ravenclaws sure are dedicated. But it takes work to hold on to that Quidditch Cup," she says approvingly and I nod.

"I was a Ravenclaw myself," she continues. "It's nice to see the team winning again."

"We do our best." I grab the leather box with the balls and turn to leave when a sudden inspiration causes me to pause midstep.

"Madam Hooch," I say. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she says, squinting at the handle of her broom.

"I'd like to ask… about Madam Rakepick."

She frowns. "What about her?"

"I'm just curious what you think of her."

She snorts. "I could certainly tell you what I think of Madam Rakepick," she says sharply. "But I prefer not to use that sort of language around students."

"I didn't know you felt so strongly about her," I say, surprised.

"Talking about her completely kills my buzz," she sighs. "Now, off you go Miss Lockhart. Get to practicing. It would be great to win the cup two years in a row."

I sigh and walk to the pitch, Levitating the heavy box in front of me and holding my broom in my other hand. The rest of the team is waiting for me, unaware of the awkward conversation I had with Madam Hooch.

Liam and Link seem to be very excited to show off their skills, so they don't notice me flying absentmindedly around the pitch. As I look for the Snitch, I can't help but think about other ways to uncover information about the mysterious Curse-Breaker.

Perhaps it's finally time to visit Rubeus.


	59. Year 4: Chapter 7 - Love and Distrust

**Introduction:** Hi, guys! How are you all doing today? I wanna start by thanking my awesome _beta_ , **Rina**. I think the chapters are looking way better with her retouches. And I also wanna thank **serendipitymadness** , **Auctor** , **Vaughn Taylor** , **Son of Whitebeard** and **James** for the sweet reviews. Anyway, let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Seven – Love and Distrust**

 _Dear Athena,_

 _Of course I'd like to have tea with you._

 _How about 3 o'clock on Sunday?_

 _Rubeus_

Rubeus's note puts a smile on my face during breakfast on Saturday. I glance at Rakepick, carelessly sitting at the teachers' table next to a very grumpy-looking Professor Snape, drinking her morning tea with a very confident expression. If I'm going to try to find the vaults before her, I must know everything I can about her.

Rowan seems to be extra nervous today, staring vacantly at her untouched plate of food.

"What's the matter with you?" I ask.

"Today's her date with Charlie," Tulip teases. "Today's the day they're finally gonna snog."

"Row?" I say, caressing her back. "Are you okay? You have to eat something."

"I can't," she moans.

"But you have to," Tulip says. "When you don't eat you get that stomach breath and then Charlie won't wanna kiss you."

Tulip's remark doesn't seem to help; instead Rowan suddenly gets very pale.

"Hey," I say, "just have some tea. And here," I put on a box of mints in her pocket, "just in case."

Though she's transpiring nervousness, she looks very pretty; her hair is flawlessly brushed, she's wearing a magenta blouse and jeans, and even has on lip gloss.

"It'll be a big mess when they start snogging," Tulip says when Rowan walks off nervously to meet Charlie by the front doors where the carriages are lining up. They sit alone in one and we get to watch them hop to their date. "There's going to be glittery lip gloss all over his face when they're done."

That afternoon, I sit in the Three Broomsticks with Penny, Tulip, Tonks, Bill, and Barnaby, enjoying some Butterbeer. I don't see Ben anywhere in the pub, or in the village when we decide to take a stroll after lunch. It's a nice and fresh summer day, but there are hints of autumn lurking in the cold wind that blows in our faces. I feel a chill run down my spine and shudder slightly. Barnaby casually removes his dark green sweatshirt and offers it to me.

I accept it, shooting him a small, grateful smile. It smells intensely like him – deliciously citrusy – and the fabric is soft against the naked skin of my arms. It's huge on me, of course, so I have to roll up the sleeves a bit. Even though the sweater provides a sufficient amount of warmth, he also wraps his arm around my shoulders and I realize we must look like we're a couple. This thought makes my cheeks burn and the awful butterflies return to my stomach.

Tulip and Tonks stop in front of Zonko's to snicker about the new laxative chocolates displayed in the window. They are such an interesting pair, with their clashing bright red and bright pink hair respectively, and I notice they tend to touch each other a lot. My eyes move to Barnaby, who's standing next to me, playing with a lock of my long blonde hair. He notices I'm staring and flashes me a bright smile.

 _Damn._

We continue strolling around the village, even passing by the woeful Emily Tyler, but Bill doesn't seem to see her. I flash her an ugly glare and she looks back at me with disdain. I actually feel thankful that she didn't agree to date Bill, because no one deserves a snobby bitch as a girlfriend.

We're almost at the fence that keeps us away from the Shrieking Shack when Bill stops abruptly in front of us and we all come to a halt, almost colliding with him.

"What happened?" I ask, and he points to a tree up ahead, staring in shocked silence.

I gape.

Underneath the big tree, so close together that you can't immediately tell their limbs apart, are Rowan and Charlie. They seem to be so lost in each other that they don't notice us staring. Rowan has her arms wrapped around his neck and Charlie is hugging her tightly around the waist, and they're completely distracted, their lips locked together.

I smile, feeling incredibly happy for her, and silently gesture back the way we came. We move away from them, allowing the two lovebirds to be alone.

"I told you," Tulip says with a smirk. "Charlie and Rowan under a tree."

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G," we all sing in unison. Barnaby smirks at me and I feel my legs shake slightly.

Rowan and Charlie don't join us for the rest of the day; we see them having lunch together, eating candy together, snogging some more, and even having some Butterbeer before going back to the carriages, but they simply ignore us every time we pass by and start snogging again.

"Holy cow," Tulip says as we climb into the carriages and head back to Hogwarts. "Rowan will be all chafed."

"Nah," Bill says. "Charlie hasn't got any facial hair yet."

It's dinnertime when Rowan finally unglues her lips from Charlie's and joins Tulip and I in the Great Hall. Her lips are slightly swollen and she's completely flushed.

"Oh hello," she says brightly.

"So," Tulip says with a crooked smile. "What have you been doing all day, Rowan?"

Rowan flushes brighter than the setting sun and we all dissolve into giggles.

* * *

I wake up early on Sunday, even though I'm not due to visit Rubeus until three o'clock. By the time I leave to the common room, Rowan is already there, all perfumed and sparkly, with her long hair tied in a messy bun.

"Oh my God," I say. "You're wearing his sweater."

"Yeah," she snickers. "He lent it to me yesterday. I had the most amazing dream about him last night. I dreamt we were snogging and–"

"Row, that wasn't a dream," I interrupt her. "That actually happened."

She can barely sit still during breakfast, constantly craning her neck to look at the Gryffindor table and flashing Charlie bashful smiles. Tulip and I raise our eyebrows at each other and look back at Rowan as she sighs happily and bites into her toast.

"So, besides snogging," I say, "what else did you do yesterday? I could barely speak to you after we got back from Hogsmeade. You fell into a coma-like sleep!"

"That's because kissing is exhausting," Tulip says, winking.

Rowan rolls her eyes.

"We had Butterbeer, kissed, ate chocolate, kissed some more, strolled around Hogsmeade," she says.

"And kissed again," Tulip giggles.

"And then he said he's in love with me," Rowan says, blushing.

I spill some tea on my plate.

"Really?" I raise my brows. "He said he loves you?"

"No, he didn't say he _loves_ me. He said he's _in love_ with me," she shrugs.

"And that was before or after you two started eating each other's faces?" Tulip asks.

"Before," Rowan clarifies. "We were taking a walk, right, and at first he was talking about dragons, as usual. But then we stopped under this tree by the Shrieking Shack and he began saying all this stuff about how he asked Bill not to fall for me when we first started hanging out, and how he's been dreaming about me almost every night, and then he looked at me with those blue eyes of his… and we kissed."

"Were you nervous?" I ask.

"At first," she says. "I didn't know what to do, but neither did Charlie. So we kinda just played around with our lips until we got used to each other. And then it was utterly delicious."

I smile.

"Maybe there isn't such a thing as being a good kisser or a bad kisser after all," she says. "Maybe it's just all about… fitting."

"Sounds kinky," Tulip smirks, biting a strawberry with a mischievous expression.

The mail interrupts our conversation and I see Twilight heading for our table amidst the flock of owls, his giant wings slicing neatly through the air. He lands smoothly in front of me, drops the package he's been carrying, and immediately starts grabbing bits of bacon off my plate.

I pat his head softly with a whispered "thanks" and turn to the package. It is adorned with a beautiful bow, under which I find a note:

 _My darling Athena,_

 _Here is a new recipe I'm experimenting with. Gingerbread cookies covered with chocolate and a dash of chili pepper. Hope you like it._

 _All my love,_

 _Holly._

* * *

I walk to Rubeus' hut that afternoon with the box of cookies under my arm, and he welcomes me with a big smile when he opens his door. I sink into a humongous chair and he sits across from me, serving me hot tea and a slice of pound cake. I place the box of cookies between us and Fang immediately ambles over and sticks his nose over the edge of the table after licking my hands.

He's grown a lot; definitely not a puppy anymore. He moves his big head to my lap and looks at me with sparkling eyes as I scratch him behind the ears.

"How's yer forth year unrollin', Athena?" Rubeus asks, taking a big gulp from his cup of tea.

"So far, so good," I say. "Here, have a cookie. My friend Holly made them."

"Holly?" he asks, grabbing a cookie, which looks spectacularly small in between his huge fingers. "Is she a Ravenclaw, too?"

I snicker. "No, she's a house elf. She works for my grandparents."

"A house el'," he repeats. "And yeh said she's yer friend. Remarkable."

"Why so?" I ask him.

"Well," he chews the cookie and makes a very pleased sound. "This is amazin'. I must get teh recipe. Bu' anyway, when You-Know-Who was in power, it was harder for teh house elves more'n any other creature. Yeh see, they were treated like worms."

"But why?" I ask, horrified.

"'Cause some wizards think they're better'n other beings," he explains. "Things should'a changed when he was defeated, but some people still treat their house elves like slag."

"That's awful," I sigh, drinking some tea.

"That's why yer one of a kind, Athena," Rubeus smiles. "Not all people see house elves as equals... leas' of all friends."

I think about Holly as I bite into one of her delicious cookies. Rubeus offers me another slice of pound cake, which is incredibly heavy and hard, and I dip it in my tea several times before eating it.

A sudden knock on the door startles me and Rubeus stands to open it. From where I'm sitting I can see a very flushed Professor Kettleburn, looking sweaty and distressed.

"Silvanus," Rubeus says. "What can I do fer yeh?"

"Afternoon, Hagrid," he says. "Oh, hey, Miss Lockhart."

"How are you doing, Professor?" I wave.

"Hagrid, have you seen a chimaera?" Professor Kettleburn asks bluntly. "I brought mine for class and it ran away. It didn't run towards the forest, so I'm afraid it may be running around the grounds or even inside the castle."

I nearly choke on my tea.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Rubeus says. "I haven' seen it. But we'll let yeh know if we find it."

"Right, right," Professor Kettleburn says, dismayed. "I better go warn the teachers…"

He runs off without another word and Rubeus closes the door, returning to his chair.

"Chimaeras are fascinatin' creatures," he says pensively.

"I just hope no one gets hurt," I say nervously.

"Oh, chimaeras are very gentle," he tells me. "Very misunderstood. It won' cause any more harm 'n the sleepwalking epidemic."

I rest my cup on the table and entwine my fingers.

"Speaking of curses, at the welcoming feast you mentioned knowing Rakepick," I say carefully.

"We've never bin close, but I've known Patricia Rakepick since she was a studen' here," he says.

"And what do you think about her, Rubeus?" I ask.

"She's talented," he says. "Ambitious... brave... devious... reckless... heroic... dangerous... And tha' wouldn' even begin ter define her. But I'll tell yeh, Athena. I'd rather be workin' with her 'n agains' her."

His words accompany me all the way back to the castle, where Bill offers to multiply the remaining cookies so everyone can try them. We sit together by the fountain, nibbling on the sweet treats, while I tell them what I've managed to uncover about Rakepick.

As usual, Ben doesn't join us.

"It's amazing," Rowan says. "I think the more I learn about her, the less I know how to feel about her."

I nod, gazing distractedly into the distance as I try to sort through my own feelings. I see Tulip and Tonks approaching us from across the courtyard and look up as they draw nearer.

"Athena," Tulip says, "Madam Rakepick asked me to give you this."

She hands me an envelope and grabs a few cookies from the box. I feel slightly worried about the content of the letter, but Rowan pokes me with her elbow expectantly and I slide it open as they watch.

"Again, I'm not sure if I should be excited or concerned for your life," Rowan says, glancing down to read the letter over my shoulder.

 _Dear Miss Lockhart,_

 _I understand you have been questioning the faculty about my personal history and reasons for being at Hogwarts. I can only assume that you've taken such an interest in me because we share a common interest in the Cursed Vaults. Perhaps you're talking behind my back because you fear what I might do in response to your inquiry. I'd like to see you immediately in the Clock Tower. I think it's best that we discuss this matter in private. If you choose to ignore my invitation, I will take it upon myself to find you._

 _Warmest regards,_

 _Patricia Rakepick_

My eyes flick to the balcony of the Clock Tower, where I can see her unmistakable ginger hair billowing in the evening breeze. I can't make out the details of her face from this distance, though if I'm not mistaken, she looks rather austere. As I watch, she gestures with her hands, clearly inviting me to join her.

"She doesn't sound too happy," I sigh.

"I've been reading about her in the Daily Prophet," Rowan says. "Even if she isn't R, she's still not someone you want to mess with. One article said she killed a sphinx with her bare hands. Another described her tearing the tail off a manticore."

"Sound like one of my cousin's stories," I say offhandedly.

"I hope by sphinx they mean the cat," Penny says. "Because if they mean the creature, we're totally screwed."

"I better get going," I say.

"Do you want us to go with you?" Rowan asks. "You know... in case she kills you, we could testify against her!"

I snicker. "I think I've got it," I say, though I'm not entirely sure.

I stick the letter in my pocket and walk to the balcony. A warm breeze blows about my long hair when I reach the top. Rakepick is waiting for me, her back resting casually against the wall, her arms crossed.

"Good evening, Miss Lockhart," she says. "Very wise of you, coming when I requested."

"What's the problem?" I ask her calmly, crossing my arms as well.

"Why have you been asking the faculty about me?" she asks sharply.

She stares at me intently and I stare right back, trying not to blink.

"You're a mysterious witch, Madam," I say finally, shrugging. "I'm trying to learn more about you."

"Then ask me directly," she says. "No one at Hogwarts knows me as well as they think they do."

She raises her head slightly, managing to look down on me even though she isn't much taller than I am. I remain silent, waiting.

"I'm not upset with you, Miss Lockhart," she says finally. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to help you enter the Forbidden Forest?"

I clench my jaw. "I beg your pardon?"

"You would be foolish to think I'm not aware of everything related to the Cursed Vaults," she says, raising an eyebrow at me and placing one hand on her hips. "You're different from the others, Miss Lockhart. I was once like you. It pains me to admit it, but you're actually farther along than I was at your age. You must continue your pursuit of the Cursed Vaults, even if it means disobeying Dumbledore and breaking school rules. A Curse-Breaker has to be willing to risk everything, and cannot let anything stand in her way."

"I thought _you_ were here to find the vaults," I say evenly.

"I'm investigating the possibility of a vault in Hogsmeade," she says. "Honestly, I'm not convinced there's a vault in the forest. But in any case, I'll allow you to serve as my assistant."

I casually let my hands drift behind my back so she doesn't know I've clenched them tightly into fists.

"With all due respect, Madam, I have better things to do," I say, very much aware of my sauciness.

"Of course," she says. "Frog Choir singer. Quidditch seeker. Even Madam Pomfrey's assistant. But I honestly thought you'd have more interest in my offer, Miss Lockhart, given the fact that you want to find your brother."

"Of course I want to find him," I say. "But I truly believe an expert like you is be much more suited to finding him than a fourteen year old."

The corners of her lips twitch and she looks at me severely.

"Very well, then," she says. "Thank you for your time, Miss Lockhart."

"My pleasure," I say. I turn around and head for the stairs, walking back to my friends.

Though I don't turn around, I can feel her piercing eyes burning at my back. I walk with the determination of someone willing to ignore a famous Curse-Breaker and walk off into the unknown, ready to face whatever is coming.

I'm willing to do anything in order to find my brother. _Anything_.

But Rakepick doesn't need to know that.


	60. Year 4: Chapter 8 - Unwanted Warnings

**A/N:** What's up, witches? How are you doing today? I wanna start by thank my beloved and amazing _beta_ **Rina**. I'd also like to thank **James** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **serendipitymadness** and **Son of Whitebeard** for all the sweet comments on the last chapter. Thank you so much for all the love and support. I hope you guys enjoy today's chapter and as you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **Chapter Eight – Unwanted Warnings**

Autumn steals gently upon the castle, bringing with it a gentle cold breeze that shakes my long braid as I fly through the bright blue skies at Quidditch practice, enjoying the sensation of freedom. Liam and Link seem to rather enjoy being on the team, and they are training hard without ever losing their smiles.

"Alright, team," Matt says, as we touch down on the pitch at last, "Gryffindor _versus_ Slytherin is booked for November 7th. It's mandatory that you all go watch and learn from their mistakes. Also, I want you all to notice their strengths, so we can discuss how to defeat them."

"I've heard Weasley is training extra hard this year," Riley says. "We ruined their winning streak and now they're ready to kick our butts."

"Well, we're going to kick back, Foster!" Matt says. "From now on we won't just be training on our brooms. We'll be running, and doing push-ups and sit-ups. We'll even swim in the Black Lake if it helps us win!"

"Swimming in the Black Lake is forbidden," Andre says.

"Then I'll make you all fight the Whomping Willow!" Matt says, glaring at Andre. "Now back to the castle, team."

We all head to the changing rooms. The boys are done fairly quickly and run off towards the castle, leaving me alone as I undo my braid and begin to brush out my hair. It takes quite a while, but I find the silence of the changing room peaceful as I work a comb through the snarls. By the time I'm done, I'm starving, and my stomach rumbles as my mind drifts to the Great Hall and thoughts of lunch. I put on my school robes and am halfway through applying lip balm when a loud breathing sound startles me. I whirl around with a gasp.

I barely have time to think; there's someone standing by the changing room door, wearing a long red cape and a hood that covers their face. I instinctively reach for my wand but the stranger is faster than me; my wand flies from my hand, landing somewhere behind me before I have time to aim. They must be much more advanced in magic than me, because they didn't utter a word. I inhale sharply.

"Who are you?" I ask, my heart racing.

"A messenger." The voice sounds modified; a bit ethereal and hoarse.

"What do you want?"

" _Petrificus Totalus_."

The curse hits me before I can so much as move, and I feel my whole body stiffening. I fall to the ground, crashing so heavily that I almost see stars.

My heart beats even faster as I see the stranger walking towards me from the corner of my eye, their face hidden in the shadow of their hood.

"I want to deliver a message. Don't worry. Someone will probably find you soon and reverse the curse. Long after I'm finished with you… and have left this place."

My eyes widen.

Holy shit. They sound like a rapist.

"There is still time to avoid your brother's fate," the stranger says. "Stay away from the Forbidden Forest. Stay away from the Cursed Vaults. Stay away from Patricia Rakepick. Death is coming to Hogwarts, Athena Lockhart. Do as you're told... and it may not come for you."

I feel awful chills running down my spine; there isn't a more terrible sensation than not being able to move in the face of danger. The stranger walks away and I hear their footsteps fading into the distance, until all that's left is the gasping sound of my own breathing.

I lie on the stone floor, feeling my heart beating frantically, as I begin to wonder how long it will take for someone to find me. I wish I could scream, but my lips are completely sealed. My stomach rumbles even more and, foolishly, the thought that drifts to the forefront of my mind is: _Drat. I'm going to miss lunch._

The light in the changing room grows perceptively darker and I realize I must have been lying here for hours. I'm not sure how long it usually takes for a Full-Body Bind Curse to fade, and this one seems to be extra strong. My mouth feels terribly dry and I'm freaking out at the thought of spending the night here.

Where the hell is Rowan?

Or Barnaby?

By my calculations, I must have missed both Charms and Divination.

Isn't anyone looking for me…?

I close my eyes, tired of staring at the ceiling, but the sudden sound of the door opening and heavy footfalls approaching causes them to fly open once again. My heart starts beating frantically again, and I sincerely hope someone has finally come to find me, and that this is not the return of the hooded stranger.

"Miss Lockhart."

I hear his voice before I see him and it's the most amazing sound in the entire world. Professor Snape steps into my line of sight and I see him aiming his wand at me, a very severe look on his face.

I feel the curse lift at last, and I let out a relieved sigh as my body is freed from its frozen state. I gingerly move my hands to make sure I can feel them and slowly sit up. My mouth is so dry I'm not sure I can even form words.

"You're late for our lesson," he says evenly.

I can't help it. I look at him with incredulous eyes and burst out laughing. He looks at me with one raised eyebrow, probably wondering if I'm mad, and then offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet. He continues to look at me inquiringly, frowning.

"What happened?"

"I was attacked!" I say, exasperated. I stop laughing.

" _Attacked?_ " he says, looking around. "By whom?"

"I don't know!" I shriek, my voice rising somewhat hysterically. "They were wearing a hooded cape!"

"But their voice," he says calmly. "Was it familiar?"

"No! I... I don't know who it was…"

I feel my voice trembling and I swallow hard to contain the sudden tears that spring to my eyes. A lot of emotions in just a few seconds... that must be a new record for me. I wonder if I'm in shock.

"Come with me," he says.

He escorts me to his office, where I sink into the armchair in front of his desk, my lips set in stony silence. He hands me a cup of tea and I accept it gratefully. My hands are shaking slightly, but the strong scent of jasmine helps me calm down a bit.

I simply _can't believe_ I've just spent hours frozen by a spell cast by a hooded stranger. How will I be able to walk carelessly around the castle from now on? What if they attack again? I shudder.

Professor Snape sits across from me and crosses his arms over the table. The intensity of his stare makes me think he may be reading my mind, but when I glance at this face I see that he looks rather concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asks seriously.

 _Am I?_ I honestly don't know. I sigh and nod, not really sure what I'm feeling right now.

"How did you know where to find me?" I ask.

"I asked around," he says simply.

I finish my tea in silence and rest my face in my hands, feeling awfully hungry and scared. He observes me for several moments before speaking.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

I lift my face to look at him. "Like what?"

"Like why someone deliberately cursed you in the middle of the day?"

"It was a warning," I say, unwilling to lie, because I'm pretty sure he _can_ , in fact, read my thoughts. "And a threat. Regarding the Cursed Vaults."

"Are you still involved in that dangerous nonsense?" he asks sharply.

I don't answer; I simply continue to look at him, letting the intensity of his glare wash over snorts, stands up abruptly, and looks at me with his arms crossed .

"Go back to your common room," he says.

"Why?" I say, frowning. "What about our lesson?"

"You don't seem to be in any condition to brew anything at the moment," he says. "Come on. I'll accompany you."

I sigh, grab my bag, and follow him out of the dungeons. We walk in silence as we climb the many staircases to Ravenclaw Tower. It's a long walk and I can't help glancing around nervously every time I hear an odd noise. When we're nearly at the entrance to my common room we come across Rakepick, who is walking briskly toward us down the fifth floor corridor.

"Found another sleepwalking student, Severus?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.

"None of your damn business, Rakepick," Professor Snape hisses. I glance at the annoyed expression on her face as we walk past, but he doesn't slow down until we reach the eagle door knocker.

"Thank you," I say quietly. "For finding me _and_ for walking me here."

He nods, turns around, and walks away in silence, his black robes billowing graciously behind him. The bronze eagle moves, staring at me with intense eyes.

"If I have it, I don't share it. If I share it, I don't have it," it says. "What am I?"

I sigh.

"A secret," I say, and the door opens, allowing me to enter.

* * *

The fire crepitates in the fireplace as I sit on the thick blue rug, hugging my knees, while Rowan and Tulip stare at me incredulously. I don't know what they're more perplexed about: the mysterious person who cursed me, or Professor Snape actually worrying about my wellbeing.

"Sound like dark magic to me," Tulip says finally.

"It was just a Body-Bind Curse," I say.

"But Hogwarts is surrounded by protective enchantments," Rowan says slowly. " _Outsiders can't just get in._ Especially Dark wizards..."

"So it must be someone at Hogwarts," Tulip says. "Maybe your brother's right, Athena, and we're all doomed."

"Who do you think it was?" Rowan asks.

I shrug.

"Merula?" I suggest, though without conviction. Not that I don't think the bloody Slytherin is capable of doing such a foul thing to me, but it didn't seem to be quite her style. "Rakepick?"

"We have to tell Dumbledore," Rowan says.

"Not yet," I say hurriedly. I've already given the matter a considerable deal of thought, mostly as I lay frozen on the changing room floor. "It could be someone else. We have no idea what's going on… and until we have proof, we have to act like everything's normal. _I won't let anyone stop me from finding my brother!"_

Rowan and Tulip stare at me, slightly shocked, but wisely refrain from commenting further.

I eat my weight in potatoes, roast beef, and cornbread during dinner. I'm so incredibly hungry that I notice nothing outside of my plate until dinner is concluded. When we leave the Great Hall at last, something pinned to the bulletin board calls our attention.

 **IMPORTANT MEETING WITH PATRICIA RAKEPICK**

 **Every single student, from first to seventh year, must attend a very important meeting with the renowned Curse-Breaker, Patricia Rakepick, on Saturday morning, September 26** **th** **, at precisely 10 o'clock, near the Black Lake.**

"God dammit," I say. "I don't wanna go to a meeting with that woman!"

"At least we'll know what we're facing," Rowan says as we head back to our dorms.

I scowl. The last thing I want is to spend my Saturday morning in the presence of our mighty Curse-Breaker.

* * *

Saturday arrives, cloudy and gloomy just like my mood. The day is so overcast, even the Giant Squid can't be bothered to poke its tentacles above the water.

I spend the intervening time after breakfast at Rubeus' hut, playing with Fang. Rowan, who had accompanied me, practically has to drag me to the edge of the lake when the appointed time arrives. I scowl as we make our way toward the large crowd of students already gathered by the water. I'm not _at all_ a willing participant, and if I'd had my way, I wouldn't be here – even if there was no hooded figure threatening me to stay away.

Rakepick looks even more imposing under the dark grey sky

with her dark red robes, tall boots, and bright ginger hair. I glance around, spotting several of my friends amongst the crowd. Even Ben has decided to make an appearance. _What a surprise._

"Would anyone care to guess as to why I have invited all of you here?" Rakepick asks, placing her hands on her waist.

There is no response. Everyone seems to be staring at her blankly and I can almost hear the crickets singing. Rakepick, however, doesn't seem to be bothered by the silence.

"I need an extra pair of hands as I try to locate the remaining Vaults and break their curses," she says, her voice carrying loudly across the lawn. She must have magically enhanced it. "I believe there is someone among you who is best suited to serve as my assistant."

"Who?" someone yells from the crowd.

"That's what we're here to find out," she says, her face turning up into a rather cold smile.

"You want to pit us against one another?"

I turn my head sharply to see Merula, who had spoken. She's standing only several paces away. I don't think she's the one who attacked me, but I still shudder involuntary. I grit my teeth.

"Think of it more as a friendly test of wills and skills. Completely voluntary, of course," Rakepick says. "If you're not interested, feel free to leave now. Otherwise, remain here for further instruction."

The crowd begins to disperse, leaving mostly sixth and seventh years, though a scattering of curious younger students remain as well.

Feeling that something has finally gone right, I turn to walk away, but I have barely taken two steps when Rowan grabs hold of my sweater.

"What?" I say grudgingly. _She can't possibly be expecting me to volunteer._

She nods her head at Ben, who is standing close to Rakepick, apparently willing to try to be her assistant. The sight of him makes me incredibly nervous.

I pause, staring. Perhaps I will stay for a while, just to see where this is going.

"Why would we want to be your assistant?" Ismelda asks.

"Good question, Miss Musk," Rakepick says. "The answer is that I can teach you things you cannot learn from anyone else at Hogwarts. Especially considering the ineptitude of this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Codswallop!" I shout before having time to think. "Professor Avalon is the best Dark Arts teacher we've had in years!"

"Thank you, Miss Lockhart," a sweet and melodic voice says from right behind me.

I glance around to see Professor Avalon walking past us, apparently heading to Professor Kettleburn's improvised outdoor classroom. She's wearing light peach robes that are fluttering softly in the breeze, and her long silver hair is floating enchantingly behind her. For a second she nearly looks like Galadriel from _Lord of the Rings_. I stare.

"There's no need to defend me," she says whimsically. "I'm not affected by this human's insipid opinions."

Rakepick's cheeks seem to burn, because they immediately turn bright red. She stares angrily at Professor Avalon, but our Dark Arts teacher continues on her way without pausing, and she soon disappears from view. Rakepick turns back to us, looking annoyed.

"What sort of things are you willing to teach us?" Bill asks.

"Allow me to demonstrate, Mr. Weasley," she says severely. "I trust none of you are afraid of curses."

Rowan looks at me with wide eyes and Tulip steps over to join us, looking rather preoccupied.

Rakepick grabs her wand and, with great enthusiasm, tells us she'll be teaching us how to cast _Confringo_. The older students, who have already learned this spell, seem fairly disappointed and several of them turn around at these words and traipse back to the castle. I share in their frustration. I'm only a fourth year, but even _I_ am familiar with the Blasting Curse, having practiced it previously as I prepared to explore the Vaults.

The remaining group is even smaller, composed of little more than thirty students, including Rowan, Penny, Bill, Barnaby, Tulip, Tonks, Charlie, Ben, Merula, Ismelda, and myself. When Charlie spots Rowan, he rushes in our direction, looking at her with an excited smile.

Rakepick conjures several wooden boxes, which we are supposed to blast with the spell she's about to teach us. She's actually a very good teacher, though she doesn't lift her disdainful expression throughout the whole lecture. When she finishes her explanation, she asks us to practice on the wooden boxes.

I manage the spell easily and explode my box with a mere waving of my wand. I don't even have to say the incantation particularly loudly or infuse it with a lot of energy. It seems to be easy for Rowan and Bill as well, and the majority of the other students also quickly manage to blast their boxes without too much trouble. When everyone has succeeded, the grass is covered with wooden shrapnel.

"Well done, Miss Lockhart," Rakepick says, smiling at me. "You're certainly very talented."

 _God, she sounds just like Rita Skeeter._

"Who do you think could help me the most with the Vaults?" she asks, her smile turning into a smirk.

I snort, feeling very annoyed, and look around at the remaining students. It is quite obvious to me that I won't choose any of my friends, despite Bill's aspirations; I don't want Rakepick anywhere near them. I consider Merula, but from the look on her face she doesn't seem very pleased to have another person snooping on the Vaults business. Then my eyes rest on Ben. I stare at him contemplatively. He looks back, his expression unreadable.

 _Perhaps it's time to stir the cauldron._

"Ben Copper," I say firmly. "He's gifted at Charms, and I have a feeling you two would work well together."

Rowan nods beside me, staring at Ben intently. She seems pleased with my choice.

"That's ridiculous!" Merula says, rolling her eyes.

"Merula's right," Ben cries. "That's absolutely ridiculous."

"Is it _really_?" Rowan says, raising her eyebrows.

"Mr. Copper wouldn't be my first choice," Rakepick says, shrugging. "But regardless, each and every one of you will be given the opportunity to prove yourselves. I'll send each of you invitations for further meetings and lessons. If you choose to attend, be prepared to challenge yourselves and learn powerful magic. Perhaps you will even become a legend by conquering the Cursed Vaults. If you choose not to attend, I thank you in advance for not wasting my time."

I turn on my heels and walk away, Rowan and Charlie right behind me.

"I get the feeling Madam Rakepick wants _you_ to earn the right to help her find the Vaults," Bill says, sidling into step beside me.

"Dumbledore must want her to keep an eye on me," I say evenly. "We'll see about that."


	61. Year 4: Chapter 9 - Danger Ahead, Beware

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! How are you all doing today? It's awfully hot in my hometown and I'm almost melting, but here I'm today to post another chapter. I wanna send a big shout out to my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** , 'cause she's awesome. I also wanna thank **Guest** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **Sonny Daniels** , **serendipitymadness** and **James** for the amazing reviews. You guys are awesome. I hope you enjoy today's chapter. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Nine – Danger Ahead, Beware!**

* * *

 _Dear Jay,_

 _I don't even know why I'm writing you this letter, because you won't be anywhere to read it. It's been over three years since you've been gone and even though I'm determined to find you, I can't help but to wonder how things would've been if the Cursed Vaults didn't exist._

 _Mum passed away over a year ago, but the ghost of her tragedy seems to haunt me wherever I go. I wish you were here with me; you always knew the right thing to say._

 _Sometimes I dream about what things would be like if you had never gone looking for the Vaults. Would we all still be together? Would I have a normal life at Hogwarts? Then sometimes I think this is nearly impossible. Every year there's something different to chase me._

 _At first it was Merula, and then the cursed ice came to trouble everyone. Then it was Rita Skeeter and her affair with Dad; not to mention the boggarts all around the school. And now it's Rakepick, trying to recruit me to help her find the other Vaults._

 _But I won't help her. Every time I dream of you or listen to your voice, I feel surer that there are people trying to sabotage everything and prevent me from finding you. Perhaps I'm getting paranoid, but I think there's some conspiracy happening in this castle. Dumbledore keeps telling me to leave the job of finding you to him, but he doesn't seem to be doing anything… in fact, he just seems to be making this harder._

 _I know I have to be tough, and train hard, and only then will I be able to rescue you… wherever you are. I just wish there was a light that could guide me, because I feel like I'm constantly in the dark._

 _My only hope is that someday I'll have you back with me._

 _All my love,_

 _Athena_

* * *

"So," Professor Snape says cynically, "you've decided to join Rakepick's crew."

I flash him a morose stare and giggle ironically.

"Very funny," I say, adding frog brain to the cauldron.

He smirks in amusement.

"You never told me why you despise her so much," I add.

"Maybe someday I will," he says. "But I find that talking about Patricia Rakepick gives me terrible indigestion."

I spend much of the rest of the lesson in a state of amusement.

September ends without another calling from our mighty Curse-Breaker, but I have no doubt that she'll attempt to contact us again. She doesn't seem to be at all bothered by what the older students keep saying about her; that she's a big charlatan.

"There are new cases of sleepwalking students every single day," Rowan tells me, as we eat breakfast in the Great Hall on a sunny Friday in early October. "I've heard Madam Pince is really stressed out; she's been researching all she can about it to help Madam Pomfrey."

I nod glumly. I'm beginning to feel we have delayed our quest for the Cursed Vaults for way too long and I resolve to do something about it soon. The following day is a Hogsmeade Saturday, and we all have plans to go into the village together, but I steal myself to give the matter serious consideration after we return. Unfortunately, we barely have time to step off the carriages on the way back from Hogsmeade the following day when Professor McGonagall rushes to Bill and Charlie.

"Follow me, please," she says urgently and Bill and Charlie hurry to accompany her. Rowan dashes after them, mainly because Charlie didn't let go of her hand. She, however, grabs my hand as well, dragging me along.

We walk straight to the hospital wing, where we find a very distressed Madam Pomfrey conversing with a ginger-haired couple that I recognize to be Arthur and Molly Weasley.

"Bill, Charlie!" Mrs. Weasley rushes to hug them, looking awfully worried. "Are you both all right?"

"Yeah, Mum," Bill says. "What happened?"

I glance past them and my eyes meet a pair of very scared-looking blue eyes framed by thick turtle glasses. Percy is lying on one of the beds, looking pale and frightened, with a big cut on his temple.

"Apparently he fell asleep while studying," Madam Pomfrey tells me in a low voice. "Hagrid brought him here just a little while ago."

After Mrs. Weasley makes sure her other sons are okay, her eyes move to Charlie and Rowan's entwined fingers and she frowns slightly before a small, amused smile lights up her features.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," I say hurriedly, reaching out to shake their hands, and Mrs. Weasley looks away from Rowan – who is steadily becoming redder than a tomato – and glances at me. "This is my best friend, Rowan Khanna."

"Nice to meet you, Rowan," Mr. Weasley says and Rowan nods bashfully.

"Lovely to meet you, dear," Mrs. Weasley adds.

They turn to Madam Pomfrey again as Bill and Charlie approach Percy's bed.

"Frankly, Poppy," Mrs. Weasley says, "Dumbledore cannot just allow these things to keep happening! We're lucky it was just a cut, but what if it had been worse? What if he ran into some creature in the forest?"

"What is Patricia Rakepick doing to stop all these incidents?" Mr. Weasley asks.

"I'm honestly not sure," Madam Pomfrey sighs. "There are new cases every day and Madam Rakepick isn't proving to be very useful."

"This has to stop!" Mrs. Weasley exclaims. "What if Bill and Charlie get injured too?"

Rowan looks at me with concern, still holding Charlie's hand.

"We need to do something about it," she murmurs.

"I think," I say quietly, "it's time we work on our plan."

* * *

Percy seems to be quite embarrassed when he leaves the hospital wing on Sunday escorted by his brothers, who walk him back to the Gryffindor common room. Madam Pomfrey managed to heal the cut on his temple without leaving a scar, but he keeps running his fingers unconsciously over the place where the cut once was.

We head straight to the library after we leave the hospital wing, grabbing every book we can get our hands on: books on useful potions, deadly plants and creatures, information about the grounds and forest... anything really. And while we skim over thousands of minuscule words, Charlie is busy studying the map we found in the Vault of Fear. I glance at him from time to time to see him scratching his chin with a pensive expression, pausing occasionally to scribble something in his notebook.

It's almost dinnertime when we return the books to their shelves and head to the Great Hall.

"It took a bit longer than I expected," Charlie says, "but I've narrowed it down to a single grove. I can't be certain that it's the location of the Vault, but I think it's where we should start."

"That forest is awfully confusing," Bill says, sighing.

"I thought you said you've been in there with Charlie," I say.

"I did," Bill confirms. "But only 'cause he got it in his head that he could catch a dragon in there and I didn't want him to go alone. We got lost, honestly. And if it weren't for his tracking skills, we would've probably starved or been eaten or something."

Charlie smiles, looking rather proud of himself. We turn down a corridor that will take us to the marble staircase.

"But how will we get in there with Rakepick and the professors watching the forest's edge?" Barnaby asks seriously.

"Professor Kettleburn told me he used to fly in there with students to observe creatures in their natural habit," Charlie says. "To be fair, he also mentioned losing a limb that way."

"Lovely," I say, sighing.

"We'll have to be well prepared," Rowan says. "We should practice spells we think could be useful and stock up on some potions as well."

The corridor we are walking along faces the Forbidden Forest, and I glance reflexively out of the nearest window as we walk past. The dark tree line draws my gaze.

"Guys..." I say slowly.

"What's wrong?" Rowan asks.

I look through the glass, my eyes lingering the forest's edge; it looks extremely dangerous and frightening, and when my eyes meet my friends' faces, I'm positive that what I'm going to say next is the right thing to do.

"I'm going alone this time," I say.

"What?" Rowan shrieks. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I won't risk your lives for something I have to do," I say.

"This isn't just your quest, Athena," Bill says. "What about my brother? I wanna help break this curse too."

"I know," I sigh. "But I've put you all at risk way too many times."

"Not me," Charlie says with a casual shrug. "This is my first time flirting with danger."

"Yeah, at least take Charlie," Bill says lightly. "He hasn't had the chance to enjoy the experience yet."

"No," I say firmly. "Stop it, all of you. None of you would be involved in any of this if I hadn't started looking for the Vaults in the first place. It's not just about breaking the curses for me – even though that's important too, of course. _But I want to find my brother._ And I won't endanger you guys anymore."

"Athie…" Rowan says.

"If you truly want to help me, you can do it in ways that won't put any of you in danger," I continue. "I don't want to see you guys being expelled, or hurt, or… _or killed_ because of me. The curses are getting more and more dangerous and I _won't_ have you risking your necks because of this! Just help me practice, brew me some useful potions, research creatures that live in the forest and… let me do the rest."

"Athena, you're experiencing some sort of hero complex," Bill says seriously.

" _I'm not!_ " I exclaim, my voice rising anxiously. "Do you I think I _like_ that all this is happening? All I wanted was for things to be normal, but they're _not_! My brother's being held captive somewhere _because of the Vaults_! I need to put an end to it, because Rakepick and Dumbledore obviously won't!"

"Hey," Barnaby says, reaching out and caressing my arm gently. "Don't worry. We're here for you."

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before glancing at their concerned expressions as I force my face into a smile. I'm incredibly anxious, but I can't let them know. They are already clamoring to join me in the forest, and this is something I know I must do alone. Barnaby's hand is still on my shoulder, and when my eyes meet his, my anxiety suddenly morphs into butterflies that flutter freely through my entire being. My smile becomes more genuine.

"Let's just go eat," I say weakly.

"All right," says Bill, who doesn't seem quite prepared to let the subject of my lone entry into the forest drop, but I turn and walk onwards toward the Great Hall and he doesn't bring it up again.

We skirt the topic of precisely who will be entering the forest the rest of the way to dinner, discussing possible ways to get near the tree line instead. When we finally get to the Great Hall and separate as we make our way to our respective house tables, I wall into silence as I contemplate what I must do. Truth be told, I don't feel at all eager to fly into the Forbidden Forest to blindly look for another Vault. It will be way more challenging than my last attempts, because I won't have the castle's walls to protect me. I'll be outdoors, alone, surrounded by deadly creatures.

 _How am I going to do this?_

* * *

I find my eyes drawn to the forest whenever I'm outside or when I walk by a window. Even during the night – whenever I wake up from my awful nightmares – I often rest my elbows on the dorm's window, absentmindedly staring at the dark and imposing trees.

I also seem to see Percy everywhere; and his childish and terrified face makes me feel even more determined to put an end to the Cursed Vaults. He's always carrying his fat pet rat over his shoulder, his eyes glistening cleverly beneath his turtle glasses. Whenever his eyes meet mine, he looks at me with a very serious expression, tightly hugging the big pile of books he constantly carries in his arms.

My nights are comprised of endless planning; I close the curtains around my bed, coming up with increasingly outrageous plans as the hours pass, each plan deadlier than the last – almost frying my brain nightly as I try to imagine what dangers I may encounter and what useful spells and potions I may need. Between my sleepless nights and my weighty class load, I soon end up with terrible dark circles under my eyes and a very tired complexion.

"Stop torturing yourself," Rowan says on the following Saturday evening, as she tries to make me feel better by painting my fingernails with a pale blue lacquer. "We're all in this together. _You don't need to do this alone._ "

"I know," I sigh, watching Tulip thoughtfully select a red polish for her own nails. "I've been feeling awful ever since Percy was found in the forest. I just... I don't want this to keep happening. What if someone gets seriously injured?"

"It's easy to say we can hurry up and end this very soon," she says. "But with Rakepick watching every corner of the castle and the forest being guarded, we'll have to be really careful."

I take advantage of the following Quidditch practice and spend a good portion of it observing the forest, flying a little higher than necessary to get a good look at the foreboding trees as I contemplate ways to fly into it without being spotted. The canopy seems to be quite thick and I can't properly see a glade where I could safely land. At this rate, I may well have to enter the forest blind.

Barnaby and Charlie, curiously enough, become instant friends as soon as they begin researching all the creatures that live amongst the trees. They spend hours on end sitting in the library among thick stacks of books, making meticulous notes about anything I may need to look out for, and how to deal with any beasts I may encounter.

Tulip and Tonks, on the other hand, are entirely focused on whatever prank devices could be useful to prevent people from messing with our plans – including Tonks using her Metamorphmagi abilities – and the following week, I even overhear them discussing slipping a few laxative drops into Rakepick's tea so she'd be too busy to be on guard.

Rowan and Bill, who are in charge of useful spells, have commandeered nearly every good spell book from the library, and we begin practicing _Inmisceo_ and _Invisibilis_ ; the Disillusionment and Invisibility spells. Meanwhile, Penny spends hours in the dungeon brewing countless elixirs… _just in case I get hurt_. I pray that I won't need them.

They are being so wonderfully helpful that I often forget that I'm going into the woods by myself; however, what bothers me the most is that Ben isn't around to help us.

I keep on glancing at him during every class we have together, but my stares are never reciprocated, and I don't know if he's avoiding me or if he's just completely erased me from his life. Studying and working on my plan isn't enough to keep him out of my mind, and I find myself dreaming about him often. I wonder if – even though he's been avoiding us for weeks – he still cares about us.

We set on a date for my dreadful trip into the Forbidden Forest: October 17th. There's no delaying it any longer, since sleepwalking students are being found nearly every day. It's easy to doubt myself, but the thought of Jacob being imprisoned somewhere dark and alone and Percy being hurt is enough to make me feel a bit bolder.

"I wish I could brew you some Liquid Luck," Penny says the Wednesday before my fated misadventure, as we sit studying in the library. "But I'm afraid it's beyond my capabilities."

My notebook gets fuller by the day; almost every inch of it covered with annotations, drawings, important remarks, and warnings. I begin constantly reaching for it during some of the more boring classes – like Divination and History of Magic – only to find myself growing more anxious and scared.

Every night is a reminder that the day to enter the forest is coming near and every morning I awake feeling slightly more frightened. Deep inside I know I have to trust in my abilities, but I can't help but think what could happen if I fail.

When I close my eyes, I keep picturing my favorite childhood quote from Peter Pan:

 _To die would be an awfully big adventure._


	62. Year 4: Chapter 10 - Secrets In His Eyes

**A/N:** Hello, wonderful witches and wizards! How are you all doing in this festive day? I'm spending this day with my family and my new baby, Sandman. If you want to know what I'm talking about, check sandyandshiva on Instagram. Anyway, I'd like to start by thanking my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** , and also my amazing readers, **Son of Whitebeard** , **serendipitymadness** , **SKKAgentCates** , **FlaviaCoelho** and a very mysterious **Guest.** Thank you so much for all the love and support. You are the reason for all the magic inside this story. I want to wish you all a wondrous Christmas and a fantastic New Year. If there's something I'm truly thankful for, in this very long 2018, is having you here with me. Thank you so much! Now let's head to the chapter. As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Ten – Secrets In His Eyes**

* * *

The Friday the week before my scheduled date with the Forbidden Forest brings forth an unexpected task. As I sit down at Ravenclaw table to have breakfast, several owls enter the Great Hall – not something out of the ordinary – and I glance up, expecting to see them bring the regular mail; however, instead they drop several dark green envelopes to a few selected students.

A beautiful tawny owl drops an envelope right on my plate. As I reach for it, a feeling of foreboding in the pit of my stomach, I notice that Rowan and Tulip have also both received envelopes, and I begin to wonder if Rakepick has finally decided to gather her "pupils" once more.

 _Dear Miss Lockhart,_

 _Your presence is requested on the Quidditch pitch at 11:30AM._

 _My sincere regards,_

 _Madam Rakepick_

I sigh. "I don't really feel like going."

"I know," Rowan says, "but we gotta keep an eye on her."

I spend all of choir practice and Herbology thinking about what Rakepick could possibly want with us this time. With the sleepwalking curse unleashed in full force, one would think she'd be too busy dealing with the turmoil to play teacher, but yet she keeps pretending like she's our professor. Hasn't she got enough on her plate? I know I have.

Thankfully, the sky is cloudy and there's a soothing autumn breeze when we make our way out to the Quidditch pitch at the appointed time. I trail silently behind my friends, absolutely hating the fact that Rakepick managed to cancel Ravenclaw's Quidditch practice to host her little gathering.

Merula and Ismelda are already there, both looking awfully annoyed. I wonder if they came to watch Rakepick as well, or if they're actually interested in being her apprentices.

"What curse are you going to teach us today?" Ismelda asks, when Rakepick marches to the very center of the pitch, carrying a broom.

"I won't be teaching you anything today, Miss Murk," Rakepick says.

I snort. _What a huge waste of time._

"You will be teaching each other," she announces, and I raise my eyebrows, staring at her. "Curses, charms, transfigurations, potions, punches... I've never believed in putting restrictions on dueling."

"You want us to _duel each other_?" Bill asks with a frown.

"As you well know, it's highly unlikely that you'll be able to enter a Cursed Vault without facing a fight," she says, and I think of the Ice Knight and the You-Know-Whos I've faced. "Dueling is the best way to improve your combat skills. I can't imagine a better way to determine who should serve as my assistant than by rewarding the last one standing."

I swallow hard, my eyes meeting Merula's disdainful violet ones. She flashes me a devious smirk and I sigh, my hand immediately reaching for my wand. I absolutely don't trust her, and I'm sure she will take advantage of this "lesson" in nefarious ways.

"There are no rules here," Rakepick continues. "You'll all fight at the same time, as if in a war. I'll be watching from above."

She climbs onto her broom and kicks off from the ground, rising high above us, where she hovers, watching.

"Let the duel begin!" she shouts.

I barely have time to draw breath as flashes of all colors emanate simultaneously from all around me. I manage to throw up a shield, which blocks several spells that fly in my direction. Over the colliding bursts of light, I see that Ismelda has her wand aimed threateningly at me, and is casting one curse after another; but her spell-casting is interrupted when Tonks turns into a goose and begins pecking at her face.

"What the hell!" I hear Ismelda yelling. "Someone get this goddamn bird away from me!"

I can hear Rakepick laughing from her lofty position high above us, her amusement clearly audible over the bangs and bursts of magic, and it entirely makes my blood boil. I _cannot believe_ I'm actually wasting precious Quidditch time for this nonsense.

There are already a lot of people down on the ground, either Immobilized or Full-Body Bound, or simply unconscious. I shield myself from several more spells as I gaze around the pitch, and almost feel my heart stop when I see Ismelda hit Goose-Tonks with a spell that makes her tumble to the floor, where she lays quite still. I feel rage rise up inside me.

My friends are doing spectacularly well and a very furious Tulip manages to strike Ismelda with _Tarantallegra_ , completely disabling her, until Bill hits her with the Body-Binding Curse.

"That's for hurting Tonks, you troll!" Tulip shouts, but before she can do anything more, she's hit by a fifth year girl whose name I don't know.

It _actually_ feels like a war; there are curses flying from every direction. As I watch, frozen, Penny throws a phial of freezing potion at a Slytherin boy, and Merula, who has somehow lost her wand, is trying to hit Rowan with her fists. It takes all of me to not simply walk away and report this circus to Professor Snape – since I know Professor Dumbledore won't care at all – but as I see Bill falling to the ground, followed by Charlie, Tulip, and then Penny, I realize I can't just walk away.

Rowan has managed to hex Merula, and now there aren't many people left standing on the green lawn. I aim several hexes at students I do not know, blocking more curses that fly my way. And then, as I whirl to fend off yet another attack, I see the dark sweep of Rowan's hair as she falls past me, tumbling to the ground in a yellow flash of light. My heart stops.

I look around, panting, my eyes trailing over my fallen friends. And then I glance up, and I see him standing before me. He is the last one left. His brown eyes are locked upon mine.

Ben.

" _Stupefy!_ "

He throws the Stunner at me abruptly. Without warning. But I am prepared. My shield glows into being around me, deflecting his curse.

He does not draw back. He casts one curse after another, stepping closer every time he aims his wand. There's a strange light in his eyes. He looks fierce. Determined. I barely recognize him; there is no fear on his face and he isn't holding back at all. The Ben standing before me is a Ben I do not know… and it brings fear to my heart.

" _Protego!"_ I shout. I manage to block him again, but I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay standing.

He advances once more. " _Flipendo!_ "

I know I can't simply keep blocking him. I raise my wand and cry, " _Carpe Retractum!_ " and he's pulled toward me, as if someone is dragging him forward by his robes. He stumbles right over me and we fall to the grass, our faces inches apart.

He looks at me with wide eyes, his jaw clenched, and I grab onto his sweater, holding him in place. His brown eyes try to avoid mine and I pull him closer. The whole world seems to collapse around us. The pitch is silent. I feel like our entire friendship is hanging in the balance of this moment.

"You can't even look at me anymore," I say quietly.

We are so close together that I can hear him draw breath.

"Athena..." He's trembling as my name escapes his lips.

"What's going on with you, Ben?" I press him. _I'm not ready to let him go._ "You're different."

He pauses. Looks at me. "This year is just harder than I anticipated." His answer is hardly an answer at all.

"Because of Rakepick?" I ask, and he shivers when he hears her name. " _Why are you so afraid of her?_ "

His eyes flash with something I can't quite place, and his face twists into an expression of pure despair.

"I wish I could tell you," he whispers. " _But I can't._ "

"Then you're aware… that I can no longer trust you." The words tear through me as they leave my mouth, but my face is set.

"I promise… I'll tell you everything," he says. "Just not now."

And then he does something quite unexpected: he places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"I'm so sorry." His words are spoken so softly that had it not been for the kiss, I could have almost let myself believe that I imagined them. I freeze, staring at him, and he gets up and offers me his hand.

The sudden sound of footsteps makes us aware that Rakepick has alighted upon the pitch. She is walking austerely toward us, and when she sees us looking, she flashes a mischievous smirk in our direction.

"Very good, Miss Lockhart, Mr. Copper," she says. "You are truly prodigies. Well, that's enough for today. I'll send you both a letter when it's time for our next meeting."

I sigh and brush bits of grass from my robes. Then I glance up again, determined to question Ben once more, to make him tell me whatever it is he's hiding, to let him know that he doesn't have to be afraid… but he's already gone. I can see his lone figure walking away across the empty field; a dark spot among the yellowing grass.

Rakepick is slowly making her way between the fallen students, checking for injuries and reviving everyone one by one. I see Rowan sit up gingerly, and I walk over to her. She looks exhausted.

"Let's get out of here," I say, offering her a hand and pulling her to her feet. She nods silently. But before we can take two steps, I hear Rakepick call out behind me.

"Please stay behind, Miss Lockhart."

I sigh and roll my eyes at Rowan, who looks at me curiously.

"What did I miss?" she mumbles. "Did you win the duel?"

"I would hardly call it winning," I say, scowling. If anything, I feel more lost than ever. "Meet you at lunch."

She grasps my hand and walks away, leaving me standing alone on the grass as more students stream past me in the direction of the castle. Rakepick waits until the pitch is clear, and then makes her way toward me, looking down at me from the top of her high heel black boots.

"I would like to teach you a spell," she says, and I raise my eyebrows. "One that aligns with your specific interests."

I return her stare, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Forgive me, madam," I say, "but there isn't anything you can teach me that I can't learn by myself."

She looks at me with a vicious smirk upon her reddish lips.

"Very well, then," she says. "Good luck with your efforts to enter the Forbidden Forest."

She turns and walks away, leaving me alone on the pitch. I watch her go, trying to sort out what I feel. She seems to know everything I'm planning. And I don't know her, but every word that comes out of her mouth constantly sounds like a threat. I'm sure that she's a danger. But I can't worry about her now; all I can think about is Ben.

And the secrets he's keeping from me...

* * *

"Are you sure it's wise to take your broom into the forest?" Charlie asks. "I mean, what if it gets damaged?"

"What do you suggest?" I ask him.

We're huddled in the library, several books and parchments spread out before us as we examine maps of the forest.

"You could borrow one from Madam Hooch," he says, shrugging.

"No one is allowed to borrow brooms after the Black Lake incident," Tulip says.

"The _what_?" Charlie asks.

"You know," Tulip says, tipping over a small paper bag and depositing a bunch of chocolate chips on her tongue. She lets them melt in her mouth before continuing. "The students used to borrow brooms to fly over the lake and occasionally they would dive down. But then, the Giant Squid tried to eat one of them!"

"Was it you?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

"I wish," she says, snickering. "I thought it might be Tonks, but she says it wasn't her either."

"Unfortunately," Tonks says. She looks utterly miserable about it, as if she can think of nothing more glorious than almost being eaten by the Giant Squid, and she still can't quite believe she hasn't thought of it sooner.

"I like the Giant Squid." Charlie smiles. "I feed it cereal sometimes."

Rowan glances at him and smiles sweetly.

"Well, I bet it would prefer a hearty diet of witches and wizards," Tonks says, grinning.

"As fascinating as all this squid talk is," Rowan says, "we have to figure out the plan. I mean, it's happening next Saturday!"

My insides twist horribly at Rowan's words.

"Yeah, we'd better not talk too loudly," Tonks says, smirking. "ISN'T THAT RIGHT, MADAM PINCE?"

"SHHHHHHHHH!" Madam Pince warns.

Tulip hastily hides her chocolate.

"I love ruffling her feathers." Tonks snickers.

"Less ruffling, more research!" Rowan says.

I glance down at the book before me, trying to tune them out. The truth is, the more I study, the more I dread what I may find within the forest. But Percy is studying at a table at the other end of the library, and a quick glance in his direction – him sitting there, with his pet rat lying across his lap, carelessly pushing the glasses that are slipping down his nose back up as his eyes skim across the pages of a thick book, looking altogether innocent – reminds me what I'm fighting for. Students – sweet, innocent students – are in danger, because of the Vaults. Because of _me_. And I have to bury my fears, because I _will_ enter that forest. _Alone_.

I clench my jaw; partly with dread, and partly with determination.

* * *

I am not ashamed of my fear. Only a fool walks in unafraid.

I don't know if the teachers notice my heightened state of anxiety – which leads to a lack of my usual attention in lessons – during the whole week preceding the FFQ (Forbidden Forest Quest), but they never comment on it, and I try my best to at least suppress my feelings during my private lessons with Professor Snape.

"Today we're brewing Pepperup Potion," he says on Wednesday evening, as I stand at attention before him, trying not to let my mind wander. "Tell me its properties."

"It's a potion to cure the common cold," I answer.

"What are the known side-effects?"

"It causes steam to come out the drinker's ears for several hours after it's imbibed."

"Correct." He hands me a parchment with the ingredients written upon it in his neat, careful cursive. "Now, if you please, go collect these ingredients, Miss Lockhart."

"Right away, sir."

I head to the shelves, trying to control my heavy, anxious breathing, and grab a flask of powdered bicorn horn, a container of dried Mandrake roots, a bottle of scurvy grass extract, and some fire seeds.

I keep compelling myself to calm down as I brew the potion, holding on to the fire seeds a little more firmly than necessary, to stop my hands from shaking. Thankfully, Professor Snape allows me to brew the potion by myself while he grades a stack of essays. I glance over at him occasionally as I add ingredients to my cauldron, and I wonder if he knows what I'm up to. If he did, surely he would stop me?

For the first time in my life I'm actually glad when the lesson is over; I grab my bag and rush out of the room with a hurried goodbye. I have barely made it out of the classroom when someone abruptly grabs hold of my wrist, causing my heart to jump into my throat. I whirl around, my heart pounding horribly, and feel incredibly relieved when I see him.

"Barnaby!" I gasp, a bit too loudly.

"Shhh," he says, bring his finger to his lips. He smiles. "Follow me."

He leads me out of the dungeons, through staircases and corridors, never letting go of my hand. His hand is hot against my skin and my anxiety, mixed with the hundred woeful butterflies inspired by his touch, makes my legs feel so weak that I begin to wonder if I might simply collapse.

I've no idea where he's taking me until I notice we're heading to the Clock Tower corridor. My eyes widen when I see all our friends waiting for us in front of the tapestry that conceals my brother's room.

"What's going on?" I ask. The butterflies are dissipating now, the moment broken.

"Let's speak inside," Tulip says.

I slip my hand out of Barnaby's grasp and reach for the keys, hidden in a pocket deep within my bag, to unlock the padlock. We file silently into the room, and as the door closes behind us, throwing us into darkness, Bill raises his wand and calls forth several spheres of light that float into the air, casting a soft light around us. The shadows make the room, and my friends, look incredibly dramatic, and I can't help but feel that this meeting will not be of an entirely cheerful nature.

"What's going on?" I say, glancing around at their shadowed faces.

"I found another Black Quill," Tulip says, and my jaw drops.

"Where?" I gasp.

"In Filch's office," Tonks says. "We were just there, playing a prank on him, when we noticed a locked drawer. Of course we _couldn't_ just not look inside. And then we found the quill."

"Just like the one Rakepick sent to Ben," Rowan says with a snort.

"We don't know that for sure," I say.

"You _don't_ knowthat for sure?" Rowan says, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows at me.

"What are you girls arguing about?" Charlie asks.

"Rowan's convinced that Rakepick is evil, and that Ben's her double-crossing minion," I say, shaking my head.

"And you've never refuted this theory," Rowan says, still staring at me, as if she can't quite believe we're not suddenly on the same page.

"And it may well be true," Tulip adds. "I mean, is anyone _really_ that much of a coward?"

"Let's argue about this later," Bill says quickly. "We need to know what this quill means."

I take a deep breath and raise my wand. " _Reparifarge!"_ Just like the last time, the quill transforms into a roll of parchment.

"Another note!" Rowan shrieks, as I unroll it. She glances over my shoulder. "At least it isn't coded..."

"This is your final warning," I read aloud. "Stay away from Hogwarts, and above all else, stay away from the Cursed Vaults. If you ignore this warning, you will not receive another letter…" My words are nearly lost in a gasp as my eyes skim across the rest of the scroll. "…Madam Rakepick... You will simply cease to exist. R."

My voice trails off and a heavy silence falls upon the room. For a long moment, we simply stand there, surrounded by the spheres of light.

"Holy shit. R is threatening to kill Rakepick if she messes with the Cursed Vaults," Rowan says finally.

"I wonder if that's the reason she's not doing anything," I say, the words of the letter weighing heavily on me.

"But why would she accept Dumbledore's request if it's obviously a suicide mission?" Bill asks.

"If Rakepick isn't R…" Barnaby adds. " _Who is?_ "

I swallow hard, my thoughts drifting unprompted to my soon-to-be stepmom.

"Too soon to tell," I say. "But it _could_ be Rita Skeeter. I bet she knows more about Rakepick and the Vaults than we do."

"And everyone knows she's not above making threats," Tulip says.

"At least now we know Rakepick's more afraid of R than we are," Tonks says with a shrug.

"We can't know for sure that this message wasn't forged," I say. "It could be a trick from Rakepick. Or not."

"Exactly," Bill says. "There are a lot of things we still don't know."

I sigh. "Let's go have some dinner," I say wearily.

 _Merlin knows I'll need the energy._


	63. Year 4: Chapter 11 - The Secrets of the

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! So, we've come to the last chapter of 2018. I want to thank you all for being with me through this year. You brought me a lot of joy, gifted me with wonderful reviews and restored my confidence as a writer. Thank you so much and I want to wish you all a wondrous 2019. Before we head to the chapter, I'd like to send a special thanks to my great friend and _beta_ , **Rina**. Besides being sweet and incredibly funny, she's also amazingly talented. Check out the amazing stories she wrote. You won't regret it! Also, I'd like to thank everyone that left a review on my previous chapter: **FlaviaCoelho** , **serendipitymadness** and **Vaughn Taylor**. To finish, I'd like to thank **James** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **Sonny Daniels** , **SKKAGentCates** , **TimeIfAStrategicWaltz** , **Auctor** , **Spring Blaze** , **xojennagxo** , **jurassicpotterfan1497** , **10868letsgo** , **Forcystus5** , **Lorelei Grace** , **Animago** , **Andouille Sucree** , **owlrebel16** and **Thay** for all the love and support. I couldn't have done this without you! I wish you guys all the best that this world has to offer! So, after this long note, let's head to the chapter! I hope you like it and if you have any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven – The Secrets of the Forest**

* * *

Saturday lingers. There seem to be judgmental eyes staring at me from every corner. I know I'm getting a bit paranoid, but it's hard to not let my feelings run away from me. My Silver Arrow is carefully hidden beneath my bed, along with my bag – full of important and useful supplies, like Penny's potions.

My friends try to make me feel better throughout the day by forcing me to eat during every meal, or simply by being goofy to try and make me laugh.

"I brought my brother's Polaroid camera," I say casually, taking it from my jacket pocket as we sit in the courtyard that afternoon. "I thought... that maybe we could take some pictures together."

I do not tell them the real reason why I want their pictures. I had actually just brought the camera to schoolschool, so I could have some fun photos next to them, but now that I'm about to do something really dangerous and stupid, it actually seems even more important to have something to remember them by – or for them to remember _me_ by.

In case I get expelled. _Or worse._

"Cool!" Tulip says.

We take a few pictures with all of us together, Bill using his long arm to keep us in frame. It feels wrong not to have Ben in the picture with us, but I have to take him out of my mind. Once we're satisfied with our group shots, everyone wants additional portraits. Rowan makes sure that I have more pictures with her than with anyone else.

The pictures with Tonks and Tulip are, by far, the most amusing ones. They make funny faces and I can't help but laugh at their antics. Then I pose for several shots with the Weasley brothers, and Bill even pulls Percy into the final picture when he walks past, carrying a stack of books.

Charlie demands to have a picture with Rowan and I end up taking a bunch of photos of them kissing, hugging, and even one of him carrying her in his arms.

I take a few next to Penny, both of us grinning serenely, and then Rowan has the idea to take one of the three of us together, making very austere faces; because we'll never cease to be Hogwarts' Ice Queens.

Last, but not least, there's Barnaby. At firstfirst, we pose for several entertaining shots with goofy faces, but then he abruptly wraps his arm around my shoulders and leans his head against mine, causing my stomach to break out in another bout of butterflies, and my face to flush. When I shake the picture and look at it after, I see he's winking and smirking both at once.

"One last photo," I say finally. "I left the other films upstairs in my trunk."

Barnaby then hugs me around the waist and I find myself wrapping my arms around his neck. We turn our faces to the camera, but before Charlie has time to take the picture, Barnaby places a smooch on my cheek. I blush furiously once more, and my bashful expression is entirely visible when the picture develops.

"Can I have this one?" Barnaby asks, smirking.

"I want some of these too!" Charlie says, sorting through the stack of photos of him and Rowan.

"We can put them in a Developing Solution," Penny says. "Then they'll move!"

"That would be awesome!" I smile, still feeling my cheeks burning.

"Leave them with me," she says. "I'll have them ready in no time."

The seemingly wonderful day ends with dinner beneath an enchanted starry sky, which is clear and cloud-free. I feel my stomach jump anxiously as I glance up at the ceiling. Soon, I will be out there, soaring amongst these stars. I am incredibly nervous about what's going to happen tonight, but knowing that I am doing it all for my friends, and for my brother, gives me courage.

I walk back to Ravenclaw Tower with Rowan and Tulip after diner, and we spend the evening in the common room, trying to pass the hours until the appointed time with several games of Exploding Snap and Gobstones. I have some trouble keeping my mind on the games, however, and after I lose several times to Rowan and nearly get my eyebrow spectacularly burned off, we give it up as a bad job and steal up to the dormitory, where we calmly wait until all our roommates are sound asleep. Once a soft silence falls around the room, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of the other girls' breathing, Rowan waves her wand and the curtains gently close around every bed, so none of the girls can see what we're up to if they awake.

"Ready?" she whispers.

"Not really," I admit. But before they can protest or offer to accompany me again, I grab my bag, and silently slip into my long and warm school robes. "But that's what makes this an adventure."

"Cast _Vermillious_ if something happens," Rowan says, looking at me anxiously. "Charlie left his brooms with us in case you need help."

I nod.

"All right," Tulip whispers. " _Invisibilis_!"

I look down and see that I've become completely invisible; however, my broom is still discernable, and I tap it hurriedly with my wand and whisper, " _Inmisceo!_ " and it vanishes, blending into the background.

"Remember, these spells only last for an hour," Tulip warns. "But it should be plenty of time to get you into the forest, and once you're there it probably won't help to cast them again. There are creatures that can see invisible beings. And anything in there will be able to smell you anyway…"

"Please, be safe," Rowan whispers.

I nod silently, seemingly unable to form words, and push open the window. A gentle breeze blows across my face. I'm glad the night isn't terribly cold and windy, and that the skies are clear. I place a foot on the windowsill and hold the broom tightly, and then push off and leap forward into the night air. I cannot even describe how strange it is to fly with no visible means of support. My stomach plummets as I rush through the sky, and I try my best to keep my fear in check. From up above, I can see the empty school grounds spread out before me, and when I glance back, I see the dark castle growing smaller as I skim towards the edge of the wood. The stars and luminous moon in the sky provide a decent amount of illumination, which is a relief.

My heart, which is already pounding anxiously in my chest, speeds up when I notice the grove of trees Charlie had circled on the map: surrounding a glade large enough for me to land. I hold my breath as I lean forward on the broom, feeling the branches and the leaves snagging at my cloak as I descend into the clearing. I would have thought my heart would calm down when I touched down safely on the forest floor, but it's the other way around; it beats faster and more heavily. I take a few deep breaths to steady myself before I glance around and find two low branches where I can safely stow my broom. I grab a ribbon from my pocket and tie it around one of the branches, so I'll find it more easily when I return.

The scent of humidity and moss invades my nostrils as I take several steps around the clearing. All I can see is the dark ground, bathed in moonlight, and the ominous wall of trees surrounding me. Their tall shapes cast terrifying shadows that seem to encroach upon the clearing, as if they are stealing closer, waiting to pull me into their depths. I take a few steps, hearing the sound of fallen leaves and twigs cracking beneath my weight. The hoot of an owl makes my head snap around abruptly, and I see a huge Great Horned Owl looking down at me from a tall branch.

Twilight.

He blinks his yellow eyes at me, even though I'm still invisible _. Does he know I'm here?_ The sight of him watching over me makes me feel a little less afraid, and I take a few more steps forward, my hand gripping my wand tightly, as I slip inside the wall of trees.

Darkness falls around me as I step under the canopy of trees overhead, but I do not light my wand. There is just enough light filtering through the bare branches to light my way, and I don't wish to announce my presence within these woods any more than I already have. After a while, my eyes adjust slightly to the newfound darkness. I see a strange liquid shimmering across the roots of a nearby tree as I walk, and I veer to the side to avoid it. My notes said something about a tree that exudes an acid resin, and I don't feel like finding out if this is the one. I walk further, only to see several trees marked by claws. They are cracked and broken with angry slashes, and I feel my whole body trembling as I stare at them.

Twilight flies from branch to branch, escorting me, and I can't help but look up constantly to make sure he's still there. How he knew how to find me, I'll never know… but the warmth I feel from his presence makes me feel like a fool for thinking I could do this alone. But it is much too late, now, for regrets. I have only one path to walk, and it is stretched out before me.

I walk around, what I am quite sure is, the place Charlie had marked on the map. After some time, I reach a huge tree that has been broken in half. I swallow hard, thinking how massive the creature that must have snapped this tree in half is, and what it could do to my body.

The canopy of trees overhead separates enough here for some moonlight to flood the ground, and I squint around, seeing the clear marks of hoofprints in the soft dirt.

I hope they're from a Unicorn…

I tighten the grip around my wand and, as I do, I notice the effect of the Invisibility Spell dissipating. A quick look at my wristwatch confirms that, yes, it's been nearly an hour since I've left the castle.

"What are you searching for, human?"

A deep and sudden voice makes me whirl around, my heart beating rapidly, and my eyes widen when they meet the impassive face of a Centaur.

 _Fuck._

I hide my wand behind my back, for I know he won't like it if I show defiance, and I take a deep breath and bow before him.

He has the pointy ears of an elf and long chocolate hair. His light skin is bathed in moonlight, and I can see he's carrying a bow and a quiver full of arrows. His dark eyes gaze at me intensely and I feel cold dread running all over my body.

"I'm looking for something called a Cursed Vault," I say, trying to sound calm, though my voice trembles a bit. "I need to get into it, to break a sleepwalking curse affecting Hogwarts."

He frowns, studying me with severity. I notice he's wearing a heavy necklace, bearing four small circular rings grouped around a larger ring in the middle.

"Do you have a brother, human?" he says finally. His tone is quite dispassionate. "Because another student has told me this story once. _Just before he betrayed me._ "

Oh, crap.

"I don't want any trouble," I say hurriedly.

"Then you should have never entered the Forbidden Forest."

He makes a sharp motion, reaching for his bow, and I react instinctively, aiming my wand at him. He snorts, looking furious.

"I don't want to fight you," I say, raising my other hand in a peaceful gesture.

"Then return what your brother stole," he hisses.

"Forgive me, sir," I say. "But I don't know what you mean."

"Your brother stole an arrow that belongs to me. An arrow that once belonged to my father."

 _An arrow._

I reach slowly for my bag, extracting the broken arrow, and hold it out to him.

"Is this the arrow?" I ask. "I found it in the last Cursed Vault."

He glares at it, his face growing more livid, and when he speaks again his voice is raised in anger. " _Where is the arrowhead?"_

"I don't know," I say quickly. "It was like this when I found it." The excuse sounds terribly stupid the second it leaveleaves my mouth.

"How did it get inside a Cursed Vault?" He clenches his jaw. "We are aware of the Vaults of course, but I don't understand how something of mine could get inside."

"I don't know, sir," I tell him. "I hardly understand anything about them. How do you know about them?"

He takes several steps forward, until we are barely a foot apart, and then crosses his muscular arms and glares down at me, looking incredibly imposing. I see moonlight glinting off several thick golden bracelets around his wrists, and I notice the fur covering his horse flanks is light and beige. I am relieved when he continues speaking, instead of attacking me.

"My father told me about the forest Vault when I was very young," he says. "He warned me to stay away. I never gave it much thought until your brother arrived years later. Centaurs are taught to stay away from human affairs, but I wanted to help. It was the worst decision I ever made. Jacob claimed that someone had disturbed the Vault, unleashing a curse on Hogwarts."

"He was telling the truth," I say, feeling my heart beating faster with the sound of my brother's name.

"He asked me to help him find the Vault," the Centaur continues, as if I hadn't said anything. "He said he needed this arrow to open its door and break the curse."

My eyes widen.

"It's missing a jeweled arrowhead," he says, still gazing at the arrow in my hand. "A cherished heirloom that has been with my herd for _generations_. I wanted to help your brother break the curse, butcurse but refused to give him the arrow. So, he used his magic to steal it from our camp. I never saw him again."

I feel a heavy tear tugging on the corner of my eye, but the Centaur doesn't seem to notice.

"They said it was my fault for helping a human," he says, resentful. "I was exiled from my herd and have lived alone ever since."

My lips tremble, and I press them together, trying to fight the tears; but a single, stubborn one rolls down my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling my knees getting weak.

"Your brother is the one who should be sorry," he says. "If I ever see him again, he will be _very_ sorry."

And then he does something I'm not expecting; he reaches out and wipes the tear from my cheek. My eyes meet his dark ones, but he doesn't lose his austere expression.

"I wish there was a way to make things right again," I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "I've been trying to fix everything… ever since I came to Hogwarts four years ago."

His shoulders seem to relax, and he frowns at me.

"I know there's no way of making you forgive my brother for what he's done…" I sigh. "But I promise you, sir, that it was for a greater good. Still, I know that doesn't make his actions right. But you don't know Jacob like I do." Several more tears fall down my face. "He's kind, and brave, and selfless… and I _know_ he was only trying to save Hogwarts from terrible danger."

I feel my legs shaking, and I sink down onto a nearby root covered with moss. It squishes softly beneath my weight. The Centaur watches me curiously as I entwine my fingers across my lap, and the broken arrow tumbles to the forest floor. I cross my ankles, focusing deliberately on the motion. My right foot brushes across a nearby branch and I kick it again, softly, trying not to cry any more than I already am.

"What is your name, human?" he says, not unkindly.

"Athena."

"Like the goddess of knowledge," he says, and I nod silently. "I am Torvus."

"Torvus," I repeat. "I'm deeply sorry, Torvus."

"You did nothing," he says. "Your brother is the thief. Not you."

"You don't understand," I say. "What he did was wrong, but he only wanted to help. And now he's missing because of it."

"Missing?"

"It's been four years now," I tell him. "I've no idea where he is... how to find him... if he's even alive."

Torvus remains silent, observing me with hard eyes.

"The Cursed Vaults bring nothing but trouble," I say. "And one trouble leads to another. And now things are getting more and more dangerous. The ones who are supposed to put an end to this aren't doing anything... and even though it's unwise to jeopardize everything by doing it, I'm trying my best to end these curses." I sigh.

"You remind me of him," Torvus says, after a lengthy silence. "Jacob. His selfless and dauntless demeanordemeanour was what convinced me that helping him was the right thing to do."

"I'm sorry he disappointed you," I say. "If he was here, I know he'd do anything to recover your trust."

Torvus looks away, pensive.

I slip off the root and retrieve the broken arrow from the forest floor. I squeeze it in my hands, thinking. "If I find your arrowhead," I say quietly, as I rise back up to meet his gaze. "Would you help me find the Vault?"

He looks at me in silence, and then lifts his head to gaze at the piece of starry sky visible between the tall trees' canopies. His eyes, then, return to me.

"I will read the planets," he says. "They will tell me what the future holds."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Torvus," I say. I slip the arrow back into my bag. "I will return this to you, when it is whole. I promise."

He nods. "I will show you the way out."

"I appreciate it, but there's no need." I bow again. "I'll find my way. Thank you for everything."

I turn around and walk back the way I came, glancing behind me once to see Torvus disappear between the trees. I am alone again. I look up to find Twilight, still watching over me. His yellow eyes met mine momentarily, and then he takes off from the branch and drifts ahead. I follow him, until we reach the glade where I've left my broom – now fully visible –amongst the branches. Everything around me is still and silent. Twilight hoots softly as I clamber onto the broom, and a gentle leap is enough to put me back into the sky. I fly silently back to my dorm, graciously escorted by my loyal feathered friend.

The trip to the forest was not as terrifying as I had anticipated… but what I've learned weighs heavily on my mind.

 _Oh Jay... what have you done?_


	64. Year 4: Chapter 12 - Ghostly Hints

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! How are you all doing? This is the seventh day of the year and given the fact that 7 is my favourite number, I'd like to take this moment to thank you for the 301 reviews and 35.000 views. You guys are awesome! I wanna send a special shout out to **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), my wonderful _Beta_ , who's helping me become a better writer and making this story sound like I've imagined it should. Thank you, **Rina**! Check out her fanfic called **Trading Places** (disclaimer: it's amazing). Also, I'd like to thank **Son of Whitebeard** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **Spring Blaze** and **serendipitymadness** for the love, support and lovely reviews on my last chapter. Thank you so much, guys! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? If you have any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve – Ghostly Hints**

* * *

Rowan and Tulip drag me down to the common room as soon as my feet touch the carpeted floor of the dorm; I barely have time to shove my broom and bag back under the bed. They sit me down on the sofa in front of the fireplace and look at me expectantly as Rowan waves her wand to bring the flames to life. The heat melts some of the coldness I feel, and I lean subconsciously toward the fire, gazing at the flickering orange glow.

"Well? How was it?" Rowan asks pointedly, when I don't volunteer any information.

"Interesting," I say at last. I tell them all about Torvus and our conversation, my heart growing slightly lighter as the words slip out of my mouth. The trip was intriguing, but has left me with more questions than answers, and it makes me feel a little frustrated that my dangerous quest into the forest didn't bring my brother back.

"I wonder if your brother has any clues about the arrowhead," Rowan says, when I finish speaking at last.

"Leave it to me," Tulip says. "I'll search his room again."

It is terribly late now, and we finally return to our dorm, where I quickly fall asleep; but soon find myself trapped inside another nightmare.

 _It is dark, and I can't make out much around me. I search urgently for my wand, but my pockets are empty. My heart pounds faster and faster as I walk, its rhythm building in intensity, until I feel my feet step into something wet and gooey, with the consistency of quicksand. A strong metallic scent permeates my nostrils, and I can hear the soft sounds of sobbing, drifting toward me amidst the darkness. I whirl around sightlessly, trying to find the source of the sound, when something abruptly grabs my ankle._

I wake up screaming, but thankfully there's no one in the dorm. The strong light glaring through the windows makes me realize that it's already mid-morning. Silently, I get up and walk to the bathroom, washing the nightmare from my soul.

Rowan and Tulip are already having breakfast when I join them in the Great Hall, my eyes itching with tiredness. They look at me with concern but say nothing as I reach for a stack of golden waffles and transfer them generously to my plate. The taste reminds me of home; of Grandma and Grandpa, of Jacob, and fills me with determination.

Our squad meets by the courtyard fountain after breakfast, where the others are eager to know what happened during my trip to the forest.

"It was disappointing," I say truthfully, sitting down on the edge of the fountain with a sigh. "I found out my brother _had_ been there, but I'm no closer to finding out where he is now. On top of that, I found out he lied to a Centaur, and stole something from their camp."

"Sounds like you met Torvus," Charlie says.

"You know him?" I ask with a frown.

"Torvus is the only Centaur lonely enough to strike up a conversation with a human," he says. "The others would probably just shoot you on sight."

"And why didn't you ever mention that you know a Centaur?" Rowan asks, placing her hands on her hips.

"I suppose I didn't want to brag." He shrugs, bashful. "Besides, I try not to let anyone know how often I sneak into the forest."

Rowan sighs, and Bill hits his palm against his own forehead, too exasperated to speak.

"Torvus is a good bloke," Charlie continues. "He and I track dragons sometimes. Not that we ever have any luck… And whenever he finds a sleepwalker, he'll escort them to the edge of the forest and point them back at Hogwarts. He reminds me a bit of Bill… if Bill was half-horse, that is."

Bill glances at him in amusement and reaches out to mess up his brother's hair.

"Did he ever mention his missing arrowhead?" I ask.

"He mumbled something about it once, but I didn't press him on it. Seemed like a sensitive subject," Charlie says.

"How are we going to find the arrowhead?" Bill asks.

"I'm going to check for clues in Jacob's room," Tulip volunteers, holding out her hand to me, and I hand her the double keys. She walks away, Tonks a half-step behind her.

"I still can't believe you met a Centaur," Barnaby says into the ensuing silence. "Did he shoot you with an arrow?"

"No," I say. "But I think he wanted to."

"Did you ask him if I'd become the youngest professor in the history of Hogwarts?" Rowan asks excitedly.

I frown at her in confusion.

"Everyone knows Centaurs can see the future," she says with a shrug.

"I suppose I need to research more about Centaurs." I sigh.

"Well, next time you see him, ask for his opinion on the Wizengamot ruling of 1811 to reduce Centaurs' 'being' status to 'beast' classification."

We all flash her odd expressions.

"It's quite controversial" she says, looking at all of us in exasperation. "Honestly, don't you guys listen to Binns in History of Magic?"

Our expressions shift to ones of amusement.

"Let's go help Tulip and Tonks find your brother's clues," Bill says hurriedly.

* * *

It's a short walk from the fountain to my brother's hidden room, and none of us can contain our surprised gasps when we push open the door.

"Hello, Lockhart." Merula's violet eyes sparkle devilishly at me.

I instinctively grab my wand and aim it at her.

"What is she doing here?" I snap, glancing at Tulip, who looks away from the chest of drawers she was pursuing and turns to face me.

"Don't be alarmed, Athena," she says in a calm voice. "I distrust her as much as you do, but we have to be logical about this."

"Just to be clear, I was extremely against all of this," Tonks says, clearly annoyed, glaring around the room with crossed arms.

"Merula has spent more time digging through this room than anyone," Tulip says. "We could use her help… Are you upset?"

"Of course I'm upset!" I say, exasperated. "You brought her into my brother's room! And after everything we went through to get her key back in the first place!"

"I rarely see you this angry, Lockhart." Merula smirks. "I like it."

"I'm sorry," Tulip says, her face growing dismayed. "But, Athena, we have to remove emotion from the equation. If Merula can help us find a clue, that can help us find the Vault… and your brother."

I clench my jaw, but before I have time to say a word, a bright flash of red light hits Merula right in the stomach, and she collapses to the floor.

"Oh my God!" Rowan shrieks. "What did you do?"

I whirl around to see Charlie put his wand back in his pocket.

"She's going to spill the beans to the teachers now!" Rowan cries.

"No, she won't," Tonks says, drawing a small phial from her bag and trickling several drops inside Merula's mouth.

Memory Drops.

"You guys are _vicious_ ," Tulip says, her eyes wide.

"No," Tonks says, "we're realistic. We can't trust this git, Lippy, and you know that!"

 _Lippy?_

"Sorry," Tulip says with a sigh, her eyes pooling slightly with sadness at our reactions.

"I'll get her out of here, don't worry." Barnaby picks up Merula's unconscious body in his arms and walks out of the room. A tense silence settles in his absence.

"Come on, you lot. Let's look for clues," Bill says, determined.

Tulip sinks over the treasure chest she had been examining the last time we consoled her, looking utterly dismayed. Tonks kneels beside her and they begin whispering in hushed voices while the rest of us wander around the small room, looking under and inside books, behind shelves, beneath tables…

"I found something," Charlie says abruptly, and we glance over to see him lying on the floor, halfway underneath a table. He crawls back out and climbs to his feet, holding a piece of parchment. "This drawing is a detailed map of the glade I chose as your ideal entry point to the forest!"

We're all crowding around Charlie to see the map when Barnaby slides back into the room, brushing his palms on his jeans, and informs us he left Merula on the balcony, of all places. Then he steps up behind me and rests his chin on my shoulder as he glances down at the map. My cheeks instantly start to burn at the proximity of his touch as I breathe in the scent of him – mint, and fresh wind, and something distinctly _Barnaby_. I feel almost numb at the thought of it.

Focus, Athena _. Focus._

"Look at this structure, just beyond the glade," Barnaby says, running his finger over the parchment, seemingly unaware of the effect he has on me.

"The only reason I can think of for a structure like that in the Forbidden Forest is a Centaur camp," Charlie says.

"Perhaps Jacob saw a connection between the Centaurs and this glade…" I say, pondering it.

"I think it may be a good idea to search deeper into the forest," Bill says. "In route to the camp."

"And I'm coming with you next time," Charlie says, excited.

"That's out of question!" I say, turning to him. "If anything happened to you, your mum would use my guts for the Christmas casserole."

"She would, indeed." Bill snickers.

"Besides, we still haven't found out anything about the arrowhead," I say.

"Your brother kept a notebook full of drawings," Tulip says abruptly, from her position on the chest.

She stands up and opens the top drawer of the chiffonier she had been perusing earlier and grabs a dusty notebook. She opens it, flipping across the worn pages, her sad brown eyes moving very quickly across the drawings. Tonks looks at her with concern, gently caressing her back, until Tulip finally stops and lowers the notebook to the table for us to see.

The drawing is beautiful and very intricate; what I assumed would be an arrowhead covered in jewels actually looks like a very big gemstone carved into the shape of an arrowhead. The gem is painted in shades of red, and the ink shimmers under the glow of the floating lights.

"Looks like a giant ruby," Rowan says.

"His penmanship really is horrendous," Barnaby adds with a frown, his gaze locked on a note beneath the depiction of arrowhead. It is peppered with ink blots and seems to have been written in great haste. I recognize Jacob's handwriting, and it sends a pang all the way to my stomach.

"Torvus will understand," I read. "This is the only way inside. And the only way to hide it from both of them is to bury it."

" _Both of them?"_ Rowan shrieks.

"A second Centaur, perhaps?" Penny suggests.

"Or maybe Skeeter and Rakepick are actually in this together, and this is all just a big plan for world domination," Barnaby says, and we flash him worried frowns. "Come on, I can't be the only one who thought about it…"

"Now the real issue is where your brother buried the arrowhead and how are we going to recover it," Bill says pensively.

"What we really need," Charlie says with a giant grin, "is a Niffler."

* * *

Charlie and Barnaby, the Magizoology enthusiasts, agree to speak to Rakepick about borrowing her Niffler, Sickleworth.

"We'll just say we're interested in spending more time with him," Charlie says.

"Which is entirely true," Barnaby adds, clearly excited at the prospect of spending an afternoon with the fluffy creature.

"At least she won't think you have anything to do with it," Charlie says, grinning at me, and I can't deny the truth of this statement.

I spend the following week researching Nifflers and how to handle them; going so far as to walk around the corridors with my nose glued to a book about magical creatures. It's no surprise that my lack of attention results in me walking directly into someone within minutes of leaving the library.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" I say, grabbing for their arm to keep them from falling, but when my eyes meet Angelica's – Gryffindor's former Head Girl – I feel instantly nervous.

She doesn't seem angry, however; instead, she picks up my book from where it tumbled to the floor and hands it to me.

"It's okay," she says. "I was distracted too."

She looks quite different from the last time I saw her; her hair is tied in a low bun and she's wearing a long red skirt, high heels, and a blazer. The name tag on her chest makes me realize that she's now part of the Ministry's staff.

"How are you doing, Athena?" she asks, her glossy lips drawing into a bronze smile.

"Good," I say. "You?"

"Oh, I'm fantastic," she says. "I'm a trainee at the Animagus Registry department. I'm here to ask Professor McGonagall a few questions."

"Cool." I smile.

"Your father is my boss," she adds. "He's an amazing guy!"

I don't say anything; I simply force my face into a smile which doesn't reach my eyes.

"Any luck with finding your brother yet?" she asks, and I shake my head. "Pity. Jacob was a troublemaker, but the truth is… I always liked him."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

"I hope you find him soon." She winks. "Well, I better go. It was really nice seeing you, Athena."

She walks past me and down the hall, her high heels making muffled sounds across the stone floor. I watch her until she turns into a side corridor and disappears from view.

Odd…

* * *

Walking into Angelica does not prove enough to dissuade me from carelessly walking down the halls, however, and while casually heading to choir practice several days later, deeply engrossed in the chapter about Centaurs, I suddenly feel like I've just stepped into an ice-cold bath. I start and glance around, only to realize I've walked right through Nearly-Headless-Nick.

"Forgive me, sir," I say with an embarrassed smile.

He draws to a halt, floating several inches above the floor, accompanied by a very beautiful woman. She's wearing a long, ruffled dress, and her dark hair falls in perfectly set curls over her thin shoulders. I can see a silver stain, frozen in time, across the cloth of her abdomen.

"Good morning, Miss Lockhart," Nick says, taking a very chivalrous bow.

"You know who I am?" I ask, surprised.

"Of course!" he says. "You are quite the talk among the castle's ghosts!"

I hug the book, not sure how to feel about it.

"Allow me to introduce you to Helena Ravenclaw," he says, indicating the beautiful woman next to him. "She is the resident ghost of your house."

"It's an honor to meet you, milady," I say with a smile.

"I see why you like her already," Helena says with a restrained smile and nods at me.

"Rumor has it that you're looking for the Cursed Vaults," Nick says, scratching his goatee. "Perhaps I could be somewhat helpful."

Helena flashes him a lenient smirk. "Rumors of the Cursed Vaults go back hundreds of years," she says. "Do you remember anyone searching for them back then?"

"I've overheard occasional chatter over the centuries from those who sought the Vaults," he says.

" _Really?_ " I ask in excitement. "Who?"

"It's a bit fuzzy… I've met so many individuals over the centuries, both living and deceased. But I seem to recall there was an old Charms professor by the name of Fortinbras," he tells me. "She would talk about the Vaults at times."

I feel my lips drawing up in a big smile.

"I can't thank you enough, sir!" I bow.

"Oh, my pleasure, dear." He smiles and floats away, accompanied by the fair Lady Ravenclaw.

I continue on my way to choir practice, the book no longer as engrossing as I contemplate this newest development. I can't help but think that my quest gets more complicated with every new bit of information. There are two things I need to find now: Torvus' missing arrowhead, and information about Madam Fortinbras…

Where should I start?


	65. Year 4: Chapter 13 - The Problem with ha

**A/N** : Hello, my lovelies! How are you all doing today? So, funny story: my dear _Beta_ **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ) and I, decided to change a few things in this chapter. When I wrote it a few months ago, I had a totally different idea, but looking at it again, it sounded completely off character and not very convincing. I hope you enjoy the chapter how it is now. You'll probably never know my previous idea, but I think it sounds _waaaay_ better right now. Anyway, let's head to the chapter! As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen – The Problem with Having an Open Mind**

* * *

With the end of October quickly approaching, Penny makes it her personal quest to find any useful information about Fortinbras inside the Charms classroom.

"I'll keep Flitwick busy," Tonks offers with a mischievous smile.

Barnaby and Charlie, on the other hand, have managed to make Rakepick trust them with her Niffler. She has even allowed them to play with the creature by the edge of the lake. I haven't dealt with Sickleworth since his guest appearance in Professor Kettleburn's class, but the boys assure me that he's extremely friendly.

"I still don't think you should go alone next time," Charlie says, as I'm leaving the courtyard for my private lesson with Professor Snape.

I do my best to ignore his attempts to convince me to take him to the forest – mainly because I don't want to jeopardize his life; but also because I know if Charlie comes along, it will somehow turn into a quest to search for dragons.

And there's just too much on the line.

* * *

The Potions classroom is empty, but he has left detailed instructions on the blackboard, asking me to start the potion by myself. The Regerminating Potion doesn't seem complicated at all, so I gather the dried daisies, dandelion roots, fairy wings, extract of Flitterbloom, frozen ladybugs, and lizard's tail from the student cupboard and head straight to my cauldron.

There's something almost hypnotic about dropping ingredients into the bubbling mixture and watching it change colors as it releases various vapors and odors. I almost feel a bit inebriated when the solution becomes green and releases a delicate grassy scent.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I whirl around so abruptly I nearly drop my jar of fairy wings, to see Professor Snape standing behind me.

"The potion looks excellent," he says, glancing down at my cauldron.

"Thank you, Professor," I say, hastily putting down the jar.

He observes as I finish the potion, watching intently as I pour the finished contents into several glass bottles and place them on a clean surface for labeling.

"I have a different task for you today, actually," he says. I look up from the bottles, and he hands me a heavy wooden box. "I understand that you have an appreciation for mushrooms." I nod curiously. "I need you to sort and identify these and organize them into jars."

He places a heavy book about mushroom identification atop the box and my arms give in a bit. I place the box over a table as he collects my finished potion containers and brings them to his desk to finish labeling.

The identification job isn't boring at all; I put on some gloves – in case some of the fungi happen to be toxic – and flip open the book.

Fly Amanita is the prettiest mushroom among the lot. I place those inside an empty jar and label it carefully. I find it soothing to sift through and organize the many different types of mushrooms, some of them still covered in dirt. As I catalog the colorful mushrooms, my mind drifts unwittingly to the Forbidden Forest, and I feel mercifully thankful that I didn't come across any flesh-eating mushrooms on my misadventure.

I allow my thoughts to wander as I work, mulling over my solo quest into the forest. I feel slightly nervous as I contemplate having to enter it again. I tell myself it's necessary, because Jake is my brother, and it shouldn't by anyone else's fight…

"Miss Lockhart."

His voice is so icy it jerks me out of my thoughts like a ship running into a glacier. I glance up sharply, the mushroom slipping out of my hands.

"You entered the Forbidden Forest." It is not a question… and his voice is so cutting, I think it could slice steel. " _Alone._ "

I stare at him, my mouth dropping open. He is glaring me, his usually serene face furious.

"And you plan," he hisses, his voice actually growing sharper with every word as his face pales in comparison, " _on going again?_ "

"I..." I begin, but honestly, I'm not sure _what_ to say.

"Are you _out of your_ mind, Miss Lockhart? Are you _actually_ trying to get yourself killed?"

I sit frozen, letting his cold rage wash over me. He has not so much as raised his voice, but I can hear the icy anger that enfolds his words. He has never lost his temper around me before; and I realize now, as I stare at him, completely incapable of forming any words in my defense, that his biting anger and disappointment is a force much more powerful than hot fury. He crosses the space between us in several large bounds and stares down at me. The harshness in his black irises makes me feel terribly exposed.

"I… You're reading my mind," I say finally.

" _Of course I'm reading your mind_ ," he says, in an attempt at his usual calm tone. "You're practically screaming your thoughts."

He's glaring at me in cold disappointment, and I hurriedly break eye contact and glance down at the orange mushroom on the desk, trying to think about nothing but its unusual form.

"Look at me," he commands, but I refuse to meet his eyes. I don't want to make it any easier for him to discover what I'm doing.

"You are not, and I repeat _not_ , entering that forest, ever again," he says in a voice of deadly calm, when I refuse to do as he asked. " _Do you understand me, Miss Lockhart?_ "

I swallow hard and, against everything that's wise, shake my head.

" _What_ , do you not understand?" he asks, his voice growing colder still. I think, by now, his ire could freeze oceans twice over.

"I can't obey you, Professor," I whisper, glancing up at him at last. "I have to do this."

"No, you don't. Have you convinced yourself that nobody but yourself can solve the mystery of the Vaults, Miss Lockhart? Do you _honestly_ think that you, and you alone, are qualified or capable of doing this?"

I push the chair back and stand up, turning around to look at the empty desks as I clench my jaw and protectively cross my arms across my chest. I don't know what to say, but I can't do as he asked. I can't make a promise I have no intention of keeping. But if he stops me, if he goes to Dumbledore… _if I get expelled, how will I ever find Jake?_

"Stop acting like a spoiled child," he says, his voice dangerously calm. "This is not open to debate, Miss Lockhart. I am telling you to stay away from that forest. _And you will do as I say_."

"You don't understand!" I shout, losing my temper as my desire to find Jacob collides with my fear of expulsion. I whirl to face him. " _I have to do this!_ This is not for fun, and I'm not trying to play the hero or solve some mystery! I need to find my brother, because no one else gives a shit about him!"

He stiffens his shoulders, pressing his lips together, watching me with impassive jet-black eyes. I plunge ahead before he can reprimand me for my language or my outburst, trying to regain control of my voice.

"The sleepwalking curse is far worse than some cursed ice, or some random boggarts. And Rakepick is completely useless, Professor. Your said it yourself! How long until someone gets seriously hurt? I have the means to put an end to this… and I won't stop until all the curses are broken and I have my brother back."

He doesn't reply. His eyes remain undecipherable, glistening under the floating candles. Sometimes I wish I could read minds too, because the silence that falls between us is too heavy to bear. I feel the need to look away, and I stare down at my black shoes, feeling distressed. I may well have ruined it all: his respect, the lessons that have grown so important to me, my chance to find Jake…

"Miss Lockhart," he says finally, his voice unreadable. "Though I firmly believe that you are an irresponsible and irredeemable fool, I… sympathize with your plight to find your bother, and your desire to break this curse. You are not wrong, about the danger plaguing this castle. But walking out into the forest is categorically out of bounds. Do you understand how lucky you are, to be standing here right now?"

I continue staring at my shoes as I whisper, "Yes, Professor."

"You will refrain from entering the forest again. If you discover information about the Cursed Vaults, you will bring it to me, and I will deal with it. _Do you understand?"_

I look up sharply at that, confusion evident on my face. "Why?"

He eyes me coldly. "Because you are a student, Miss Lockhart, and you will do as you are told. It is not your job to run amok in the Forbidden Forest and face begrudged Centaurs."

"And whose job is it, Professor?" I dare say, testing my luck. "Yours?"

He contemplates me. "That is not your concern. Tell me everything you know. Now."

I sigh heavily. I don't know if this is the right thing, but if there is a single professor at Hogwarts I can trust with information, it's probably Professor Snape. If he's truly going to investigate the Cursed Vaults, it would be much more helpful to have him on my side than Rakepick. So, with a heavy heart and an awful feeling that everything is about to go terribly wrong, I start talking.

* * *

I do not tell my friends about what happened during my lesson with Professor Snape, and I feel thankful that they, at least, are unable to read my mind.

I sit beside Rowan at dinner and play with my vegetables while I consider the things I told Professor Snape. Conflicted feelings continue to hang over me, but in the end, I have to admit that telling him everything took away a heavy burden from my shoulders.

I think back to that afternoon, as he pulled up a chair and stared me down, across the table full of mushroom jars, questioning me about every single thing about the Vaults. I didn't feel his eyes piercing me anymore, and I dared to believe that he wasn't reading my mind. A deep breath was all that it took for me to start telling him everything. I told him about the cursed ice, the boggarts, and all the clues I found, as he watched me impassively. Occasionally, curiosity had flickered cross his eyes, sometimes warring with a frown, but mostly his face had remained unreadable.

I sigh heavily, wondering what I've gotten myself into, and raise my eyes to my friends, only to realize that Tulip is missing. Again. I've barely seen her the whole past week.

"Tonks said she's still pretty upset," Rowan tells me quietly, when I question her. "She thinks she betrayed your trust."

"Well, I'm not going to deny that," I say with a shrug. "I'm glad Charlie knocked Merula out."

"That's my dragon knight!" She snickers, looking very pleased with herself.

We head back to Ravenclaw Tower after we finish dinner, but we're intercepted by Penny, who is pacing back and forth across the Entrance Hall excitedly, and Tonks, whose bright pink hair looks incredibly messy.

"We did it," Penny says, before I can say a word. "We found something about Fortinbras!"

She pulls out an extremely old and shabby book with faded golden words on the cover that read: _The Folio of Fortinbras_.

"The ink on most of the pages has worn away over time," she continues, "but there's a very interesting paragraph here… look."

She flips the book open to a page marked with a long yellow ribbon and hands it to me.

" _It is my belief that a great power is sealed inside Hogwarts, but what sort of power, I do not know_ ," I read. " _Riches? Magic? An instrument of hope and death? I cannot say. A group of teachers and students alike formed a circle of trust. I fashioned an artefact to seal the identity of my closest co-conspirator."_

I look up, glancing at my friends as I contemplate it.

" _An artefact…_ " Rowan mutters the words slowly, as if tasting them. "I wonder if there's another clue inside the Artefact Room..."

"Ben's old hiding room, you mean?" I say. The thought has already crossed my mind.

Rowan nods, before letting out a large yawn. "Let's take a look tomorrow.

"Athena," Tonks adds, her tone worried, "if you see Tulip, tell her I wanna talk to her."

I nod and follow Rowan to our dorm, where I find Tulip's bed curtains closed, blocking all light and sight; but I know she's in there, because I can hear her sobbing.

"Tulip," I say, opening the curtains abruptly.

She's wearing her blue pajamas, and her red hair is spread all over the pillows because her face is buried in them. She doesn't turn around to look at me, so I get on her bed and start shaking her.

"Hey," I say. "Snap out of it."

She turns around slowly, looking up at me with puffy eyes.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

"Why are you even talking to me?" she says, her voice choked with sobs.

"What are you talking about? Why wouldn't I talk to you?"

"B-because I betrayed your t-trust." Her voice trembles, and I can barely make out the words. I feel a small stab of guilt.

"Hey," I say, lying down next to her and poking the tip of her nose with my index finger. "It's okay. We're not going to stop being friends just because of one silly little thing..."

"Tonks said I was in the wrong." A tear falls down her cheek. "And that's something very serious, coming from her."

"That's true," Rowan says, sitting down on the edge of the bed and poking the little lump that is Tulip's feet under the covers.

"Listen," I say. "Tonks is worried about you."

"No, she's not… She's mad. She said we have to talk things through before going around doing stupid shit."

"Tonks adores you," I say. "She could never be mad at you."

"But you adore Ben," she chokes out. "And y _ou're mad at him._ "

"I'm… not mad at him." I sigh. "I'm just worried."

"So worried you don't even talk anymore!" she cries. "Will you lose your faith in me too, after what I've done?"

"Tulip… you were friends with Merula before you joined our gang," I say softly. "Of course you still see good in her, especially because you were separated in an awful way. But if Merula is ever going to be on our side, I'd want our friendship to start the right way."

"Do you really think that's possible?" Rowan asks. "Being friends with Merula?"

I shrug as much as I can, while still laying on the bed. "Nothing is impossible."

"Well, at least we weren't sorted into Slytherin," Rowan says. "Can you imagine how terrifying it would be to share a dorm with Merula and Ismelda right now?"

The three of us snicker, Tulip's face finally drawing up into a small smile that does wonders for her puffy eyes. I stay with Tulip until she's sound asleep, and when I finally get up, I leave her curtains open… just in case.

* * *

I feel slightly anxious during breakfast the following day, as I'm dying to see what other secrets the Artefact Room may be hiding. Tulip and Tonks do not join us; they head to the school grounds, their arms looped together. They walk away in silence, but I hope it won't last long.

The room looks just as I remember it: dusty, gloomy, and entirely sinister.

Perhaps it has something to do with the basket full of skulls in the corner.

We spread out, looking under every piece of furniture, inside every drawer, and even inside the skulls. Barnaby drifts off for a while, becoming engrossed in a book full of notes about magical creatures.

"And to think, this is just one room full of secrets in this whole castle," Rowan says, crawling under a table to check the dark corners. "I wonder what other secrets are behind these walls. Ouch!" She hits her head on the underside of the table and lets out a string of curses.

"Careful, Rowie," Charlie says affectionately, and I have to try hard not to giggle.

"Hey, I think I found something," Bill says several minutes later, and I glance over to see him kneeling next to a box full of old and dusty books and rolls of parchment. "These parchments seem to be written by Fortinbras…"

We rush to sit around the box and dig through the parchments excitedly. Rowan reads through her pile very quickly, tossing them aside and grabbing another bunch when she's done.

"Nothing useful," Penny complains when she finishes her own pile.

"Well, I found out that you're not supposed to feed currants to Nifflers," Barnaby says brightly. He glances up to see us raising our eyebrows at him. "What? At least now I know what not to feed Sickleworth."

"Here's an interesting note," Bill says, scratching his chin. " _Bartholomew is the new Potions Master. We will find the Vaults ourselves. He is the only one I trust. Bartholomew sought to learn who built the Vaults and why. His beaker holds the key._ "

"Beaker?" Penny says with interest. "Like a potion glass?"

Bill shrugs. "Could be."

"Does it say anything about its location?" Charlie asks, reaching for the parchment with interest.

Bill shakes his head as he hands it over. "It could be anywhere."

"Perhaps it's in the Potions classroom," Penny says. "It seems the logical place."

Charlie snickers. "That doesn't help. I seriously doubt Snape's going to let us search through his stuff."

I bite my bottom lip while they continue to discuss several plans to recover the beaker, each sounding progressively more bizarre.

I've told Professor Snape everything. The question is… what will I do from this moment on? _Do I trust him?_

"I got it," I say abruptly, clenching my jaw. Regardless of my decision, if the beaker is in the Potions classroom, it's quite clear that it's my job to obtain it.

"Athena, I know he's very fond of you," Penny says. "But do you think it's wise–"

"I said I got it," I repeat, looking around at their faces evenly. "Trust me."

Oh, boy.

 _Here we go again..._


	66. Year 4: Chapter 14 - It Happened on Hall

**A/N:** Hi, you guys! How are you all doing? I'm sorry I didn't upload this chapter yesterday, but life got in between and I was too tired to do anything. Anyway, here I am, with one of the chapters that I enjoyed writing the most. I hope you like it! I'd like to thank my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who made this chapter sound even better! But let's head to the chapter, shall we? If you have any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen – It Happened on Halloween**

* * *

Things have gotten incredibly complicated again. I am constantly filled with anxiety as I think about Jacob, the Vaults, the Forest, Torvus, the arrowhead, lying once more to Professor Snape, and everything else that can possibly go wrong. I feel like a million things are weighing on my soul, and if I don't get out from under the combined weight of them soon, my mind is going to explode.

Luckily, there's nothing like a good Halloween party to lift the spirits.

Literally speaking.

After we, the choir, perform our rendition of _Something Wicked This Way Comes_ from the makeshift stage at front of the Great Hall, I join my friends for a party unlike any other. The house tables are gone, leaving only one long table covered with food along the far wall, and a huge space for everyone to mingle and dance. Professor Flitwick has enchanted several magical instruments to play very macabre songs, and all the ghosts are already dancing excitedly underneath the enchanted starry sky.

There's a smooth mist obscuring the floor, live bats circling the ceiling, and fake gravestones interspersed around the edges of the Hall. Floating trays make rounds across the open space, carrying an assortment of blood-red punch, scary snacks, and sweets.

"Amazing," Rowan says in appreciation as she takes in the decorations. She's wearing my long black skirt and a dark red blouse she borrowed from Tulip, and stuffing her face with a brownie covered with gummy worms.

"Stop eating and let's dance!" Charlie says, appearing beside her and pulling her away, and she hurriedly stuffs the entire brownie into her mouth as she stumbles after him. He's enchanted his school robes into a beautiful shade of midnight blue sprinkled with little stars and half-moons, and I can't help but think that they look rather striking together.

This party is exactly the break that I needed, and I finally manage to relax and let off some steam as I soak in the amazing atmosphere. I gaze around the room, watching Professor Avalon dancing with Professor Kettleburn; she looks insanely gorgeous in a long baby-pink dress. Kettleburn looks a little bit odd, trying to dance with his fake leg, but it's still an interesting scene.

"Would you like to dance?"

I glance up to see Barnaby grinning at me, his hand held out in invitation. His silver skull ring glistens in the reflected light of the floating purple candles.

I smile at him, feeling the butterflies overtaking my stomach again, and grab his hand. The melodic funeral march is a little odd to dance to, but he manages to spin me around the Great Hall either way, a crooked smile upon his lips. I notice that he's also enchanted his school robes, only his are a dark purple. I, on the other hand, borrowed a mint dress from Rowan, who magically added a lacy hem and little sparkling stars.

"You look like a mint candy," he says with a smirk. "I like mint."

 _Merlin._

My knees go partially weak and I feel my cheeks turn red, and I'm thankful for the low lighting of the Hall. Hopefully, he can't see how bashful I am.

I glance away from him, my face still burning, and my eyes trail over Professor Dumbledore dancing with Professor McGonagall. Several paces beside them, Bill is pulling Penny out to the dance floor, both of them laughing. Next to the food table, Professor Vector, Professor Sinistra, and Professor Snape seem enthralled in a rather entertaining discussion, and Madam Hooch appears to be trying to make Madam Pomfrey sample the punch.

Further down the table, Tulip and Tonks are happily talking and eating the "bloody fingers" (hot dogs and spicy sauce). I'm glad to see that they seem to be all right again. Rubeus is also perusing the food table with interest, covertly offering hot dogs to Fang while talking to Professor Sprout and the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Quirrell.

"How are you doing, Miss Lockhart?" I glance around to see Nearly-Headless-Nick waltz by us, spinning around with a very serene Helena Ravenclaw.

I nod at them as they float away, taking care to lean back out of their path… and further into Barnaby. My cheeks flush once more at the contact.

"Wicked party, huh?" Barnaby says in my ear, pulling me closer to his body and making my heart beat violently.

"Y-yeah." I can literally feel the butterflies hitting one another as they dance in my stomach.

We stop dancing for a while and make our way to the food table, where I try out the berry punch, which is enchanted to release white smoke as it simmers in a cauldron. Despite its appearance, it's quite cool and delicious. Barnaby is instantly attracted to a tray full of peppermint toads. Rowan walks over to us, escorted by Charlie, as we make our way through the fascinating treats. She looks sweaty and exhausted.

"Holy Merlin," she tells me, fanning herself. "Charlie has a lot of energy! He's like a hopping dragon or something."

I snicker, grabbing a handful of colorful popcorn, and glance around the room. I see Madam Pince and a very whimsical Professor Trelawney – looking more than ever like a giant glistening beetle – hovering at the edge of the dance floor. The only person I really can't seem to spot… is Ben.

And Rakepick.

"Enjoying the party, Lockhart?" Merula walks by us, eating a cauldron cake, followed by a very creepy-looking Ismelda.

"If Ismelda was trying to look like a zombie, she totally succeeded," Rowan says.

"No." I snicker. "I think she was just trying to use makeup..."

"That was enough time to rest," Charlie says abruptly, as we both start laughing. He grabs Rowan's arm and pulls her back to the center of the room. Before long, they're cheerfully dancing under the enchanted ceiling once again.

I stand by the food table, watching them dance as I fill my glass with another type of drink – a bright green sparkling one – that tastes like green apples.

"Would you like to dance, Miss Lockhart?"

I turn around to see a rather short someone floating slightly above the ground, wearing a ghost costume – or at least, I assume it must be a costume, because they are not transparent, but covered in tattered cloth with jagged edges.

"Professor Flitwick?" I smile, recognizing his voice, and he offers me a fabric-covered hand.

It feels quite odd to dance around with a floating partner; but even while floating, Professor Flitwick is incredibly skilled – spinning me around and making me smile the whole time.

The party continues, growing more and more boisterous. I notice that Rowan has found a way to make Charlie stop dancing – by locking her lips against his. I smirk, amused, and stumble against a pumpkin because I'm rudely staring at them instead of watching my steps. I nearly fall. I don't, though, because an amused Barnaby catches me in his arms.

"Hey." He practically breathes the word in my ear, and smiles, and I no longer know how this butterfly thing works. "Let's take a walk outside? It's almost a new moon night."

My mind goes almost entirely blank and I find myself nodding. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, leading me to out into the cool night air. The real sky is also dotted with a thousand stars, and the thin moon is barely visible. A chilly breeze blows past us, making me fold my arms across my chest, and Barnaby instantly removes his cloak and wraps it around me. The citrusy scent of it makes me feel a little numb, but the warmth of the cloth calms my heart a little bit.

I smile. "You're such a gentleman."

He smirks.

We stroll across the grass as we make a loop around the castle. The trees and bushes cast ghostly images against the mossy stones as we make our way around West Tower, and in the silence of the night, he pauses and leans his back against the castle wall, pulling me by the hand until I'm close enough for him to wrap his arms around me.

Oh.

My.

God.

"Barnaby," I say, my voice no louder than a whisper.

My heart pounds even harder when he begins to play with a long lock of my hair that's slipped over my arm. I rest my hands over his chest, feeling his heart drumming beneath his black sweater, and start to think that he might be just as nervous as I am.

His bright green eyes meet mine and there's a trembling smirk on his lips, which makes my cheeks burn like crazy. I tell myself to breath, because standing so close to him makes me instantly breathless. I bite my bottom lip to prevent myself from blurting out something stupid, because my thoughts are screaming a bunch of random and senseless things that don't need to be said.

"You look dazzling tonight," he says, his mouth inches from my ear. "I mean, you always look dazzling, I didn't mean to say that you don't usually look dazzling, because you do, and–"

I begin to snicker, and he stops talking and draws back slightly to look at me with a bashful smile. He moves one of his hands and runs his fingers through his chocolate hair. I take a deep breath, feeling my stomach doing pirouettes. I can't remember the last time I've felt this nervous.

Perhaps in the Forbidden Forest?

No.

Not even then.

"Barnaby, I–"

"I think I'm in love with you," he says abruptly, and I look at him, my mouth dropping open, my words evaporating into the night.

 _Hooooly Merlin._

My mouth moves silently, trying to form any kind of words, but all I end up doing is looking at him with a perplexed expression, a bunch of unsaid words tickling my lips.

"I know you don't feel the same," he says, looking a bit sad. "It's okay. I just wanted to get it off my chest."

I literally want to kick myself for not saying anything, but his sweet and timid declaration honestly leaves me completely mute.

"It feels nice," he says. "Being alone with you... away from everyone else."

"Barnaby," I manage finally, forcing my voice to come out. My tongue stumbles slightly over the sounds of his name. "We're often alone."

"Yeah, but... we're always studying, or talking 'bout the Cursed Vaults... and it's nice to just be with you… doing nothing at all."

"We… we could do it more often," I say, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Don't give me false hope," he says, a dismayed smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry." I sigh. "It's not that I don't have feelings for you."

He frowns, a confused expression settling into place on his handsome face.

I stumble over my words. "You make me feel... I mean... Ever since we... Jeez, I can't even talk." I snort.

He snickers.

"You see?" I look at him intently. "You make me feel completely out of my element… Numb, anxious, head over heels… You can choose."

He lets a soft giggle, pulling me tighter against his chest. I find myself running my hands from his chest to his collarbone. He lets out a nervous sigh and the butterflies in my stomach intensify.

"I just feel... like this is not the right time," I say heavily, watching his eyes lose a bit of their sparkle. "There's just too much going on right now, and... I don't think I'd be the best thing for you."

"How can you say that?" he says, reaching out a hand to slightly caress my cheek. "How can there be anyone more perfect than you?"

"You're very sweet." I smile. "I can barely believe that just a year ago you were threatening to vanish all the bones in my body."

He chortles nervously, his cheeks getting slightly red.

"Oh my God," he says, looking extremely embarrassed. "I have no words to defend myself. Do you forgive me?"

I giggle. "There's nothing to forgive."

I feel his hand, warm against my cheek, and he gently strokes his thumb over my skin, making a bunch of chills run down my spine. His hand then moves slightly closer to my mouth, and I feel the tip of his thumb gently outlining my bottom lip.

"Even though, as you said, this isn't the right time," he says, "there's something I'd like to ask you."

I look at him, almost drowning inside his gorgeous emerald eyes.

"I'd like... I mean…" He blushes a bit more, and I feel my heart beating even faster. "I wanted... I want my first kiss to be with you."

Just when I thought there was no possible way for my heart to beat faster, it manages to surprise me, almost finding its way out through my chest. I swallow hard, barely able to contain the smile forming on my lips. I can feel the butterflies trying to escape through my slightly opened mouth.

I have to stand on my toes to be able to reach his lips, and he holds me even closer, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I wrap my own arms around his neck. His intoxicating, minty breath tangles with the lingering taste of green apples on my tongue, and I find myself melting in his arms when our lips finally touch.

His mouth is absurdly hot, and soft, and it's an unexpectedly synchronized kiss – especially since it's a first for us both. I bury a hand in his hair and he holds me impossibly tighter, until my feet nearly leave the ground. I'm not quite sure what to do, or how to move, but within his embrace, everything feels so much simpler. Instinctive.

What begins as a gentle dance of our lips slowly intensifies, and my heart skips a beat when our tongues finally connect, transforming a sweet and innocent kiss into something much deeper and more breathtaking. His mouth tastes of mint, and chocolate, and I get completely numb as I breathe in his fresh citrusy scent.

We lose track of time as we fold into the kiss, aware only of each other, and I allow myself to enjoy every second of it, exploring his lips, savoring the taste of him, feeling completely above the clouds. We break apart only when we're completely breathless, our lips burning.

He looks at me with sparkling eyes, his red lips slightly parted, and his chest rising and falling rapidly as he draws breath. He bites his bottom lip bashfully and I swallow hard, trying to contain the urge to kiss him again. He loosens his arms around me, simply touching my hands with his fingertips.

"We should... we should go back to the party," he says timidly.

I sigh. "Yes."

But he lingers, his green eyes locked on mine beneath the starry sky. His gaze makes me feel entirely exposed, even underneath his warm cloak.

"Or we just could–"

I can't even finish my sentence, because he flashes me a bright smile and embraces me once more, pulling me for in another kiss.

Oh Merlin.

I'm in for it now.

 _What Vaults?_


	67. Year 4: Chapter 15 - Hidden Messages

**A/N:** Hello, you guys! How are you? I'm currently re-editing all of my previous chapters, so you may notice that they look slightly different. I changed a few dialogues, my way of constructing the sentences, but nothing that will significantly change the plot. Also, I'd like to thank my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's making this story look and sound polished and amazing. I'd like to thank everyone who left sweet reviews on my last chapter, so a big thank you to **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **James018** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **Sonny Daniels** and **MaliceMalAmyMalevFaery.** You guys are awesome!

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen – Hidden Messages**

* * *

I wish I could say that we returned to the party, that we danced some more, and everything went back to normal when I woke up on the very next day.

But that's not what happened at all.

We did not return to the party until it was nearly over. It is needless, I think, to voice the reason, but the burning sensation that lingered on my lips for the rest of the night was a constant reminder as to our activities. Rowan was so tired when we finally returned to our dorm that she fell asleep instantly, party clothes and all. She didn't even notice my reddish lips… and silly smile.

I slipped into my pyjamas, longing for some rest, but ended up dreaming of Barnaby all night long. He haunted me, dream after dream, and I even awoke the next morning with my cheeks burning.

It was a beautiful night. Amazing. And its only downside is my full awareness that it cannot keep happening. This is something extremely difficult to accept… and it will probably take all of my mental and physical faculties to restrain myself from falling constantly into his arms.

But what seemed fleetingly possible in the warm evening glow, falls to pieces in the cold morning light, and thoughts of Barnaby are quickly overshadowed by the Vaults – the ever -looming Vaults.

* * *

When the following morning dawns, blue and sunny, I take a very long shower. As I stand beneath the spray and let it pelt me with nearly painful intensity, I take the time to ponder my life choices. It hurts so much to break Barnaby's heart; even after our stolen evening together, he still looked incredibly dismayed as he returned to his common room.

I feel as if my whole world has changed as I stroll into the Great Hall, and I am positive I must look as different as I feel; but nobody seems to know about my first kiss as I sit down at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast, and I don't really feel like telling anyone. I steal a quick glance at him at the Slytherin table, my fingers trailing to the unicorn charm on my bracelet, its metal as sure and warm as his touch. As much as I want to run straight into his arms, I know I cannot allow myself to fall in love with anyone right now. There's so much at stake… and so much left to do.

I must enter the forest again, against the express orders of Professor Snape this time. I may have told him everything I knew, but I know that this a journey I must take alone; a journey which will put me at risk of getting expelled – _or killed_ – as I try to find my brother. I am the one that Torvus is waiting for to deliver the arrowhead, after all, and I am quite sure he will accept it from no one else. And there are countless dangerous people… a herd of angry Centaurs, all waiting to stop me.

No.

I'm not what's right for him right now.

Nor what he deserves.

Not at all.

My eyes wander to the Slytherin table again and instantly meet Barnaby's emerald irises. He smirks, though his face still looks downcast, and my heart beats faster inside my chest.

I inhale sharply, my breath catching in my throat. I'm not sure how I will be able to push the taste of his minty lips from my mind. How will I be able to cast aside all the wondrous things he made me feel? For just a few hours, he made me forget the whole world.

For a moment, I wish things could just be normal... if only so I could enjoy the sweetness of his kisses for little bit longer.

After breakfast, we all sit together by the lake's edge, watching the Giant Squid swimming around as Charlie throws cereal bits over the water's surface. The bits clump together, forming a mound that rises precariously above the lake, somehow staying afloat despite the water threating to dissolve it. Rowan, who is entirely ignoring Charlie's attempts to build a floating tower, has her head resting in his lap and is studying her History of Magic book.

"Our exams are just around the way," she says.

"I know." I sigh. "And the Quidditch season starts next week."

"I've been training extra hard now that I'm on the team," Barnaby says, stretching his arms. "Do you think you can handle Slytherin now, Weasley?"

"Bring it on, Lee," Charlie says with a laugh, throwing a bit of cereal at Barnaby, who catches it skilfully with his mouth.

I reckon he should have gone out for Seeker instead. Or… there are plenty of other better uses he could put those lips to… I blush furiously.

It's odd – hanging around him while fighting the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him profusely. And it becomes especially difficult when he lays down on the ground and entwines his hands behind his head, causing his sweater to rise several inches to reveal a sliver of bronzy naked skin.

God dammit.

"Are you okay, Athie?" Rowan asks with a frown.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're a little bit red," she says. "Do you have a fever?"

Yes… a Barnaby-fever.

"Nah, I'm fine." I sigh, hugging my legs and resting my chin over my knees, staring at the lake.

The Giant Squid sticks one tentacle out of the water and wraps it around the floating bits of cereal.

Charlie's tower is gone, as if it had never been.

* * *

I begin to feel bothered during my lessons with Professor Snape.

I cannot help but accept that the dynamic has shifted between us. Despite what I may have confided to him about the Vaults and how much of a relief that was, I cannot forget the simple fact that he has deigned to read my mind – an act that, despite its intentions, felt so intrusive that I cannot help but view it as a betrayal.

And if I'm going to break all the rules again, and possibly shatter the last bit of trust that he has placed upon me, I might as well do it right.

To that effect, I find myself walking between the library shelves, looking for books that may lock my mind away from the world and prevent anyone – especially him – from reading it.

"Madam Pince," I say carefully, after an hour's fruitless searching, "so sorry to disturb you. I was just wondering if you have any books about mind reading, or on how to close your mind."

She blinks her huge eyes at me.

"Yes, I believe we have several books about Legilimency and Occlumency." She stands up, motions at me to follow her, and leads me to a row several paces from her desk. "Here's everything we have on the subject."

She leaves me alone to search, and I end up grabbing five books about Occlumency. I borrow them, shove them hurriedly inside my bag, and rush back to my dorm.

Occlumency, I learn, is the act of magically closing your mind against Legilimency. It is an ancient technique that has existed since medieval times. It can prevent a Legilimens from accessing your thoughts and feelings… or influencing them. A person who practices this art is known as an Occlumens. It appears to be a very difficult technique, but I figure it's worth a try.

I read everything I can about it but putting it into practice is a completely different story.

As hard as I try, I just can't seem to silence my mind.

* * *

A week goes by, and I feel like I've wasted seven chances to look for the beaker. Professor Snape has watched me like a hawk during our lessons, almost as if suspecting me of doing something uncouth. And I have kept silently to my work, my thoughts rigorously never straying from the task at hand. Every time I think of him invading my mind, I feel violated.

On November 6th, as I'm heading to the dungeons, I realize that I won't be able to do this alone. Though I loathe to put my friends at risk, they have proved more than once that they are willing to do whatever it takes. For that reason, when I spot a familiar blonde hair with signature braids heading to the staircase that leads to the kitchens, I act without thinking.

"Penny!"

I run after her, and she pauses, looking at me with a bright smile.

"Athena!" she says. "Going to another lesson with Snape?"

"Yes… and I think I need your help."

"Do you want me to distract him so you can look for the beaker?"

I frown, baffled, and she smirks at me.

"Oh, Athena, I was just waiting for you to ask!" She smiles brightly. "We keep telling you, and I'm so glad you're finally listening. You don't have to do this all by yourself."

I stare down at my feet, sighing. "I know."

"Don't worry," she says, resting a hand on my shoulder. "I know exactly what to do."

* * *

Our lesson begins as usual, and for a while I start to wonder if Penny will actually help me. I spend the lesson trying to focus on the potion Professor Snape has assigned me, but also on trying to shut my mind from the world – because the last thing I want is for him to read it again.

"A simple invisibility spell is weak when compared to this," Professor Snape says, adding giant purple toad extract to the Invisibility Potion we're brewing.

"But there are creatures that can see invisible beings," I say, pouring in ten drops of chameleon blood.

He doesn't respond. Sighing inwardly, I reach for my bag to grab my Potions book to make a few notes, and an Occlumency book falls to the ground. I inhale sharply as he reaches for it, his eyes lingering on the title. He hands it to me silently, his eyes meeting mine, but I don't feel the usual intensity that comes with his stares.

"Miss Lockhart," he says finally, his voice solemn. "I… apologize." The words seem to cost him something. "I didn't intend to read your mind… and I don't incline to make a habit of it… so I don't think Occlumency is something you really need to be concerned with."

"Why did you do it then?" I ask, holding the book tightly against my chest.

He clenches his jaw. "I did it because I worry about… Hogwarts."

I frown, breaking our eye contact, and shove the book back into my bag. His eyes return to the bubbling cauldron, but his shoulders look rather stiff and he doesn't seem to be breathing.

"I won't read your mind again," he says. "This may not put your mind at ease, but Occlumency isn't something you should attempt on your own. If it's something you insist on pursuing, however, I can give you some lessons, in the future. But in the meantime, I have the feeling that there's something you would like to ask me."

I stare at my shoes, nervously playing with one of the charms on my bracelet as my mind spins with memories of my recent discoveries. He sounds quite sincere, and I know that even though I'm standing here, silently lying to him, he has no reason to lie to me. It bothers me that I'm planning betray his trust again, by returning to the forest… not to mention my plans of going through his stuff to search for the beaker.

"Professor?" Penny calls suddenly from the doorway, her tone slightly distressed. "There's been an accident!"

He looks at me, as if silently telling me to finish the potion by myself, and rushes to help Penny with whatever it is she's done. I don't have much time to think, but I also can't allow the potion to be ruined – otherwise he'll know that I wasn't paying attention. I quickly add the skull wasp venom, which needs ten minutes of brewing time, and rush to his office. To me, it seems like the most obvious place to look for the beaker.

The office is neatly organized, full of shelves lined with potion ingredients in flasks and beakers, all of which I ignore as unlikely candidates. The bottom shelves, however, are stacked with several old-looking boxes, which seem more promising. I kneel, pulling them toward me at random. A lot of them are filled with old books, scrolls, and oddly-shaped flasks, but there's one in particular, older and nearly falling apart, that says _Do not toss these_ across the top in spiky writing. Intrigued, I pull it toward me.

The first thing I notice is a small note from Professor Dumbledore that specifically prohibits whoever is occupying the classroom from tossing the objects that are inside the box. He calls them "rarities," and it leaves me immensely curious as to what mysterious objects may be inside it.

I rifle through several parchment scrolls, a very old and dusty book, and something that looks like a broken tea cup, before my fingers land on something cool and smooth. I draw it out carefully and look it over. It is a rather ordinary-looking bluish potion glass. It was buried at the very bottom of the box, but surprisingly, it's in perfect shape. Not even a scratch.

The very essence of it appears to be humming with magic.

I don't have time for deep contemplation – I've already been in his office for much too long. I put the boxes back where I found them and rush back to the classroom, carefully placing the beaker in my bag. I'm not terribly worried about my books falling atop it. The magic it's incrusted in is so obvious and palpable that it seems quite clear to me that it won't shatter from sheer force alone.

It takes several minutes more for Professor Snape to return. By the time he walks back into the classroom, the potion is almost done. He looks stressed and extremely annoyed but takes a few deep breaths before talking to me. For some reason, I feel like he's trying to be kind to me; and even though he's angry, he doesn't want to take it out on me. I wonder if he's still feeling guilty for having read my mind. And that ends up making me feel even worse, because I'm lying straight to his face. _And I just stole something from his bloody office._

It's not like the beaker actually belongs to him, but the awful sensation lingers anyway.

I start to pour the finished potion inside the waiting flasks, but he interrupts me.

"Leave that to me," he says simply.

I nod. "I'll wash the glasses."

Something tells me that whatever it is Penny did to distract him has made him very annoyed, and possibly in need of some alone time. I slip off the outer layer of my robe, and my bracelet, and then hurriedly gather up all the dirty glasses and head to the stone sink to wash them, wondering if that girl is _really_ a Hufflepuff.

I lose myself for a while, letting the cold water running over the beakers and flasks numb my fingers as I try to wash away the negative feelings that are rushing through my mind.

It'll be all right.

I have no choice, after all.

I _have_ to find my brother.

* * *

"It was epic!" Penny says with a mischievous smile.

We are all sitting by the fountain that afternoon, following my terribly exciting Potions lesson.

"Okay, but _how_ did you manage to turn that Slytherin boy's head into a balloon without Snape knowing that you did it?" Rowan asks, shocked.

"Oh, I didn't just turn his head into a balloon." Penny smirks. "I also made a flood of Stinky Gluey Solution, and five kids, and Filch, _and_ Filch's cat got stuck in it!"

Charlie frowns. "And no one knew it was you?"

"Being a perfect pink princess has its advantages, guys." She shrugs. "And I had help."

"Did you tell our plan to an outsider?" Tonks's jaw drops.

"You're belittling my cleverness, Tonks." Penny narrows her eyes at Tonks, though the effect is slightly ruined by her inability to stop grinning. "And if you want to know who my partner in crime is, you should look to your left!"

Tonks's eyes meet Tulip's, and the redhaired girl smiles.

"Why did you think I got a month worth of detention?" Tulip smiles, satisfied with herself.

"But…" My mouth opens and closes several times. " _Why?_ "

"Penny needed a distraction." Tulip shrugs. "It was easy for Snape to remove the curse and the stinky glue, so that was my cue. I threw several Dungbombs everywhere and made sure he saw me do it. He was furious! He took me to Filch's office to file some papers. Took longer than I thought too, because Filch couldn't stop talking about how much he wanted to hang me from my wrists and hit me with a paddle."

"Disgusting," Rowan says solemnly.

"Snape said he couldn't," Tulip adds. "No hanging students from their wrists. Said we didn't have the proper arm strengths required for that kind of exercise. Bunch of useless twits, we are."

Everyone laughs.

"Oh, Tulip," I say, my face breaking into an amused smile. "You didn't have to."

"Of course I did!" She smiles at me. "You were still putting a lot of trust in me, and I _had_ to prove that I'm still trustworthy."

"You're amazing." I pull her into a hug, and she sighs happily.

"All right, less hugging, more beaker!" Rowan says.

"Sure thing, Row." I grab the beaker from my bag and hand it to her. It looks quite nondescript, though its magic is very intense.

"So, is that really it, then?" Penny asks. " _Did you really find it?_ "

I shrug. "I don't know. But it's very magical."

"There are markings engraved on the glass," Rowan says, turning it over in her hands. " _Ancient runes!_ Here"– she hands it back to me – "hold it up so I can see."

I raise it until it catches the sunlight, the rays of light casting the markings on the glass into sharp relief. Though Rowan will probably decipher it much faster than me, I can already make out several words.

"Through tireless toil," we say in unison, and I snicker while she raises her eyebrows at me.

"Through tireless toil," I repeat, "I have written–"

"Studied," she corrects me, rolling her eyes this time, and I fall silent, grinning. "I have studied our... predecessors... and solved one of the great Hogwarts mysteries. Some wanted to keep us safe from the world… Some wanted to keep the world safe from us. Some wanted to amass power inside of the school, no matter the danger… Some had the plan to keep that power in the right hands."

"Is he talking about something inside the Cursed Vaults?" I ask.

"There's one more sentence," she says. "Each common room hides a house sigil. Only a student who is true to their house can find their sigil."

"That means we'll only be able to find the Ravenclaw sigil," I say.

She smirks. "Fortunately, we're overly friendly."

I glance around, staring at my friends' determined faces. Ravenclaw… Gryffindor… Slytherin… and Hufflepuff.

We all stand strong together.

* * *

"So, there are hidden clues in every common room," Rowan says during dinner, looking very pensive.

"It's very tempting to just skip dinner and go there to look for them," Tulip says, barely containing her enthusiasm.

"I know." I sigh. "But we have to pretend nothing's going on. Rakepick can't suspect us."

Charlie says he'll look – discretely – for the Gryffindor sigil after dinner; Tonks says she'll look for Hufflepuff's with Penny that evening, and happily bounces off with Tulip in the interim to discuss pranks; meanwhile, I find myself trying to ignore more butterflies when Barnaby flashes me a mischievous smirk before leaving the Great Hall for the dungeons, where he promises to look for the Slytherin sigil… with _all of him_ , whatever that means. I start to think about how _all of him_ includes his wonderful lips, and this single thought makes me blush furiously. So, I leave Rowan to chat with Charlie and face the long walk to my own common room alone, hating the stupid butterflies for making me feel so completely lost at sea.

That evening, Rowan and Tulip sit on my bed, carelessly resting their backs against the bed pillars while passing the time by pretending to read a book (Rowan) and scribble some prank ideas (Tulip). I sit down by the window and carefully write a letter to Grandpa. I'm not pretending at all. But hell, maybe they aren't really either.

As soon as the rest of the girls fall asleep, we quietly leave the dorm and descend to the silent and empty common room. The dying fire flickers in the fireplace, bathing us with a gentle swell of heat when we reach the carpeted floor. The serene figure of Rowena Ravenclaw seems to watch us as we wander around the room, our eyes peeled for any suspicious objects or places that could bear hidden messages.

My watch tells me it's past midnight when we finally sink into the blue couch in front of the fading fire, gazing at the remaining embers. I briefly wonder if Professor Bartholomew was nothing but a great old coot.

"Let's go back to bed," Rowan says, sighing. "We can have another look tomorrow."

She gets up, making her way back toward the stairs. He footsteps pause suddenly, directly behind the couch.

"What's wrong?" I ask, turning around.

"I've just realized," she says, sounding somewhat intrigued. "This part of the floor… it makes a different sound."

"What?" Tulip rushes to her, dropping down to the floor and placing her ear over the carpet. She knocks on the floor in a few spots at random, straining to listen to the discordant sounds.

It is very clear.

A specific section of the floor seems to incite a hollow sound… as if the space beneath it is empty.

I can only assume that the general level of noise in the common room when it is filled with students has masked this sound in the past.

" _Diffindo_!" Rowan says excitedly, and a big tear appears in the dark blue carpet.

I join them, pushing the carpet aside, ripping it until we can see the wooden floor underneath. Tulip knocks on the wood again to make sure we're looking at the correct spot.

" _Carpe Retractum_!" she says, and a single wooden board lifts up from the floor, rising just enough for us to push it aside.

" _Lumos!_ " The light from the tip of my wand floods a hollow space beneath the floorboard… which contains just what we wanted to find.

 _A rolled-up parchment scroll._

I reach out, my fingers closing firmly over the paper. It crackles with age.

" _Reparo!_ " Rowan says, putting the floorboard black in place and magically mending the tear in the carpet.

The parchment tickles my fingers as I unroll it, my hands trembling slightly with anticipation. I read aloud:

 _There is some knowledge too terrible even for the wisest to have, and so I locked those secrets away._

"What?" Tulip says blankly.

"It's a very vague and unclear message," Rowan says, frowning.

"I think things will become clearer when we have the other sigils," I say.

I barely sleep that night, wondering what kind of terrible knowledge could be so dangerous to possess that it requires such thorough hiding.

The next morning, I add a postscript to Grandpa's letter before I send Twilight away.

With any luck, he'll be able to give us some guidance.

Because it seems like things may be getting quite… dangerous.


	68. Year 4: Chapter 16 - Kisses and Theories

**A/N:** Hello, everyone! How are you all doing? I wanna thank you guys so much for all the reviews and the fact that we're almost reaching forty thousand views. You are amazing, so thank you very much for all the support. I also wanna thank my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's helping make this story better. She's also an author here and is currently writing an amazing story called **Trading Places** , so go check it out. To finish, I wanna thank **James018** , **setendipitymadness** , **Sonny Daniels** and **Son of Whitebeard** for the sweet reviews. Now let's head to the chapter! Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen – Kisses and Theories**

* * *

For the first time in my life, I'm willing to watch a Quidditch game without the pretext of sneaking into some Vault or looking for trouble. The sigils are already taking up a lot of space in my mind, so a nice Quidditch match seems like exactly the distraction I need.

Rowan is wearing Charlie's red sweater and Gryffindor scarf, excitedly screaming and hopping as soon as she sees him walk across the pitch. I fully appreciate Tulip's conflicted thoughts about who to root for; Bill and Charlie are my friends and they're Gryffindors, but Barnaby is a Slytherin, and he's also my…. _friend?_

I blush furiously.

He had pulled me aside after breakfast, before heading to the changing rooms. A citrusy-scented green and silver scarf was placed around my neck before I could so much as say a word, and my heart had immediately started knocking against my ribcage when he placed a gentle kiss right on the corner of my lips.

Oh, God.

I have never felt weirder and more confused, and it's hard to focus on the game with Barnaby's insanely delicious smell constantly invading my nasal cavities.

"Are you all right?" Rowan shouts at me, her voice cutting across the din of the cheering students.

"I'm fine."

"I really think you could use some Pepper-up Potion," she says. "I think you have a fever."

"I'm fine!" I repeat.

The match begins with Drew Bennett, the other Slytherin beater, almost knocking Charlie off his broom.

"Boooooo!" Rowan shouts.

"She seems very excited to be rooting for her boyfriend." Tulip smirks, standing next to Tonks.

"GO CHARLIE!" Bill yells from right behind us.

"Easy, Billy," Penny says, poking him with her elbow. "I'm standing right beside you."

"And Charlotte Allen has the Quaffle," Daniel narrates. "But she's almost hit by a Bludger sent by the new Slytherin Beater, Barnaby Lee. And what a Beater he is! Quite handsome, indeed!"

 _Indeed._

"Gryffindor quickly retakes possession of the Quaffle," Daniel continues. "Elena passes to Charlotte, who passes back to Elena… is she gonna score? YES! Ten points to Gryffindor!"

My eyes follow the little green dot that is Barnaby as he sends another Bludger directly at Elena when she grabs the Quaffle again. She dodges, but ends up dropping the ball. Daniel continues with his narration.

"Slytherin now has the Quaffle. Stella passes to Hannah… Hannah passes to Eve… Slytherin scores another ten points!"

The match continues for a good half hour, during which Gryffindor scores its hundredth point.

"GO, CHARLIE!" Bill and Rowan suddenly shout in unison.

From where I'm standing, I can already see it.

The Snitch.

It's a subtle golden flicker, right behind Barnaby's back. I barely have time to draw in a sharp breath as a speeding Charlie comes rushing at it like a comet. He wraps his hand around the golden ball but his momentum carries him forward, past the Snitch, and –

"Holy crap!" I shriek, covering my mouth with my hands as Charlie crashes into Barnaby at nearly full speed and they both tumble from their brooms, crashing to the ground ten feet below.

"OH NO!" Rowan shouts, rushing to the stairs and running desperately to the pitch.

Madam Hooch is already standing over them, and I follow Bill to see if they are okay. Rowan kneels over Charlie, tenderly caressing his ginger hair, assessing the strange angle of his wrist.

"Does it hurt very badly?" she asks in a sweet voice.

"I'm better now that you're here." He smiles.

Madam Hooch conjures a floating stretcher to deliver Charlie to the hospital wing, and Bill and Rowan follow behind them, hovering anxiously as he grins nonstop; the injury clearly well worth the win. Barnaby, on the other hand, quickly reaches up and grabs the hem of my robes from his position on the grass.

"Hey," he says with a smirk.

"Are you all right?" I ask, crouching beside him.

"Yeah." He smiles. "But Madam Hooch insists that I should see Madam Pomfrey. I think Charlie broke his wrist when he crashed into me."

"No wonder," I say. "Being the big troll that you are."

He smirks, messing up my hair. This single gesture makes my heart flip inside my chest. His eyes flash intensely at me, sparkling in all shades of green under the bright sunny sky.

I pull my eyes away, trying to clear my head as we climb to our feet. The stands empty out around us as the crowd dissipates, and I make to follow everyone, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist.

My heart flutters again.

"Shouldn't you go see Madam Pomfrey?" I ask, feeling my cheeks burning.

"That can wait." He smirks, pulling me to toward the stands until we are directly beneath them, and I can see the whole wooden structure and a few spider webs hanging above our heads. A small mouse runs away when Barnaby rests his back against a pillar and pulls me close by my waist.

Merlin Freaking Mage.

"Barnaby," I say, though my voice is merely a murmur.

"Yes?" he says with a mischievous smirk.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says, looking at me suggestively, his eyebrows raised and full of implications.

Oh, dear God. Help me…

I inhale sharply as he brings his face close to mine, running the tip of his nose ever so slightly across the surface of my cheek… slowly descending to my neck.

 _Damn it._

He pulls my scarf – that is actually his, but anyway – away, and his breath is so freaking hot against my naked skin that it almost seems to burn. His insanely soft lips leave a trail of kisses all over my neck, and I have to control myself so as not to melt into his arms. It takes all of me, and I end up grasping at the sleeves of his green Quidditch uniform.

"Dear God," I moan, and he lets out an amused giggle.

His lips return to my cheek, and he deliberately places several kisses dangerously close to my lips.

"Barnaby," I say. "Didn't we talk about this?"

"We did?" he asks. "I honestly don't remember."

I snicker, realizing he isn't always as confused as he pretends to be. Right now, for instance, he seems to know exactly what's he's doing.

"Barnaby, we can't conti-"

And then his lips are on mine.

Just as our first kiss, this one is gentle and almost timid, even though he's holding me so tightly – as if he never wants to let go.

Damn. I forgot how good it felt to kiss him.

"This is all your fault," he says, his voice muffled against my lips.

"Why?" I whisper.

"I asked you to be my first kiss," he says, his lips touching against mine with every word. "You didn't have to accept it. But you did... and now I'm addicted."

I open my mouth to protest, but he sees it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue playing with mine. _The taste of mint._ It makes my legs go weak.

It somehow feels both wrong and incredibly right at the same time, even though I know it shouldn't be happening. He's sweet, and pure, and I don't want to be the one to break his heart by being an absolute mess. But then again, I want to kick myself for having mental dialogues with myself. I must sound like some poorly-developed character in a cheesy cheap novel… struggling with my big internal dilemmas while an absolutely wonderful guy is addicted to kissing me.

He places a hand mischievously over my arse and I feel a jolt shoot through my whole body, which betrays me by burning with his touch. He kisses me ardently, burying his other hand in my hair. He pulls me closer – our bodies almost melting together – and I begin to feel an insane heat between my legs. It's an almost unbearable aching sensation that bothers me to no end, but feels good at the same time. His lips are feverish over mine, exploring every aspect of my mouth and tongue, nearly driving me insane.

My hands, resting on his neck, instinctively descend to run over his chest, until they find the hem of his green sweater. I slip them underneath his clothes, feeling his bare back almost burning against my palms. The insane heat of his soft skin makes me want to completely remove his cloak and sweater, just so I can feast my eyes on his bronzy, smooth flesh.

He moans softly and I start to feel that maybe we're going a little bit too far.

"I'm sorry," he says, when I gently push his chest away, my breath heaving. "Did I cross a line?"

"No," I say, stepping back and fixing my hair. "I did."

"It didn't feel like you crossed it," he says, his lips red and swollen.

"Oh, dear Lord," I say, feeling completely out of my mind with him flashing his gorgeous green eyes at me, holding his handsome face between my hands. " _Why, in Slytherin's name, do you have to be like this?_ "

"Like what?" he asks, confused.

"Adorable," I say. "And inviting. And breathtaking. This is so unfair!"

"Then why are you holding back?" he asks, his eyes burning in my direction.

"I don't know." I sigh. "Mainly because I don't want to hurt you. My main priority right now is to put an end to the Vaults and find my brother. I know I won't be as emotionally available as you deserve, and you, more than anybody else, deserve someone to be with you… heart and soul."

"Are you… saying you don't like me?" His expression is so adorably innocent – even after kissing me with such passion – that it breaks my heart.

"I like you more than I want to," I say. "And more than I should. But the timing is awful… I mean… I'm not saying never… just not right now."

"Perhaps tomorrow, then." He smirks.

"Barnaby!"

"I'm kidding. I know what you mean," he says. "And I respect that. Sort of… Can I still annoy you every once in a while?"

I roll my eyes. "Sure."

"Can we kiss some more before going back to the castle?" He raises an eyebrow at me.

I smirk.

 _Oh my, what have I gotten myself into…?_

* * *

The following weekend brings us all back to Hogsmeade, cozily gathered around a table in the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta already brought us eight mugs full of her new spicy Butterbeer, which is – no fibbing – insanely delicious.

"Rowan, I don't need a straw," Charlie protests when Rowan conjures a bright red straw into his mug. "My wrist is perfectly fine. And even if it wasn't, I could hold it with my other hand."

"I know," she says, caressing his hair. "But let's not risk it. You need your right hand in perfect shape for the next Quidditch match."

"I thought you were gonna say I need it to–"

"Finish your Transfiguration essay," Bill interrupts.

"Amen," I say solemnly, while taking an amused sip of Butterbeer.

From the other side of the table, Barnaby flashes me a mischievous smirk, making me grow redder than the straw touching Charlie's lips.

"I like when we're all together," Tonks says happily. "It makes me thankful for the Vaults existing."

"I agree," Bill says. "Even though the Vaults are dangerous, they actually brought us all together."

"Yeah," Charlie says, looking at Rowan with passion in his bluish eyes.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" Tulip suggests. "The village looks so beautiful in autumn."

"We should enjoy it while we can," Penny agrees. "Winter is just around the way."

"I like winter," Tonks says with a smirk. "It gives us so many pranking opportunities."

Tulip looks at her with accomplice eyes.

"Did you guys have any luck with the sigils?" Tulip asks while we finish our Butterbeers.

Penny sighs. "No. We practically turned our common room upside down but we didn't find anything. We'll keep looking, though."

"What sigils?" Barnaby asks, confused.

"What do you mean ' _what sigils_ '?" Penny frowns, turning to him. "The ones we're desperately looking for!"

"You haven't been looking for the Slytherin one?" Charlie asks.

"I've been a little busy… I guess I forgot," Barnaby says.

Once again, he looks at me with his green eyes and a crooked smile appears on his lips. I have to force myself to stare into my frothy Butterbeer, because I can't stand the naughtiness of those eyes.

* * *

We leave the pub; strolling along the high street, window shopping; walking absentmindedly until we reach the clump of trees near the Shrieking Shack. There are so many leaves coating the earth that the stones underneath are barely visible. The ground is painted in splashes of red, and green, and orange.

In front of me, Tonks and Tulip stroll side by side, their gloved hands clasped together, until Tonks grabs Tulip's hand and sticks it inside her jacket's pocket.

It's such a sweet gesture, and Barnaby seems to notice it too, because I immediately feel his fingers brushing against mine as we walk. My heart speeds up when I feel him entwine his warm fingers through mine. My hand feels so absurdly small in his, and he mimics the girls, pulling my hand into the warmth of his overcoat pocket.

I allow my face to break into a smile. It's so lovely, just strolling along with him; the world at peace.

"MERLIN'S SOCKS!" Barnaby suddenly lets go of my hand with a yell, startling me out of my thoughts, and I look up sharply, my heart beating, to see a dark brown blur shooting straight at him.

"Twilight!" I reprimand, exhaling sharply. My dear feathery friend lands his heavy body on my shoulder, cuffing Barnaby around the head with one wing, and locks two annoyed yellow eyes on me. I can't help but feel that they are full of censure.

I _cannot_ believe my owl is jealous of Barnaby.

"Couldn't you wait to deliver this until I was back at the castle?" I ask him, but Twilight only looks at me with irritation.

I guess that's a no.

He drops the letter he's holding into my hand, and I recognize my grandfather's penmanship.

Finally. The piece of wisdom I've been waiting for.

I wonder if Grandpa could help me with the Barnaby issue, too.

Er – maybe it's better if he doesn't….

I open the envelope, my eyes running over my grandfather's intricate calligraphy.

"What does it say?" Rowan asks. I glance at her and see that her hair is full of pieces of leaves, which Charlie is trying to remove. Now, how did _that_ happen?

"Apparently, my grandmother found the Hufflepuff sigil many decades ago," I say, frowning slightly at the letter. "She didn't know what it meant, but she kept it inside a book."

" _And what does it say?_ " Penny asks, her voice rising with excitement.

" _The students must be kept safe, though the dangers be great and deadly. I sealed death around the corner."_

Penny looks at me with a frown.

"I sealed death around the corner," Bill repeats.

"You know," Rowan says. "According to _Hogwarts, A History_ , the school was always meant to be a safe place. But by being a safe place, it had a responsibility to protect dangerous things… thereby, making the castle _less safe_."

"Is it possible that someone took advantage of the way the floor plan of the school appears to shift over time?" Charlie asks.

"Perhaps... the Vaults were built to hold something dangerous that could be placed inside…" Rowan continues. "But what if... what if they were _actually_ built _around_ something dangerous… something that could not be moved?"

What if, indeed.


	69. Year 4: Chapter 17 - The Edge of Reason

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! How are you guys today? I wanna thank you so, so much for the sweet reviews: **Son of Whitebeard** , **James018** , **iNiGmA** and **Guest** , thank you so much! Also, I wanna thank my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ) for all the help, love and support. Check out her stories, because she's a magnificent writer! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen – The Edge of Reason**

* * *

 _Help me..._

 _Find me..._

 _Where are you?_

 _Why are you taking so long?_

 _Athena..._

My eyes fly open in the darkness, and it takes me a few seconds to realize I'm lying on my bed in the Ravenclaw dormitory. Amidst the obscurity, I can hear Addison talking in her sleep.

"Oh, Matt…" she moans.

 _At least I hope she's sleeping._

I rub my eyes, trying to erase the dreadfulness of my nightmare from my mind, though it's mostly in vain.

There was blood... so much blood; the metallic scent was invading my mind, confusing all my senses. And there was a voice calling me; a voice that was a blend of my brother's voice... and someone else's.

My hands grasp the sheets tightly, and I pray intensely for everything to be just a bad dream. If I could have one wish right now, it would for this dream to not be a premonition.

I roll to my side, feeling a piercing pain in my womb, and wonder if this might be the reason for my gory nightmare and overall enhanced hormonal behavior… So, the first thing I do after breakfast is head to the hospital wing, where Madam Pomfrey is already taking care of several students.

"Miss Lockhart, thank Merlin you're here," she says, exasperated, and throws an apron at me. "Could you check on Betty Brooks for me?"

"Actually, I'm here for some anti-bleeding potions," I say. "But I'm perfectly willing to help you."

"Oh," she says. "Right. They're in that cabinet over there." She gestures hurriedly off to her right and rushes to attend to the bruised children.

I quickly open the cabinet she indicated, grab a flask labeled _Sang-No_ and down the whole thing in one gulp. It tastes insanely horrible as usual, and it's awful to attest that I haven't gotten used to it even after two years.

Without the blood problem in mind, I approach Betty, a third-year Ravenclaw. She has gorgeous ebony skin and very curly hair and is wearing a scared face as she stares up at me. There's a cut on her forearm, which looks fairly minor. Should be easy to heal.

"Here," I say. "Let me take a look at that."

She looks at me with wide brown eyes and lets out a shriek when I touch her arm.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask, startled.

"No," she says, still staring at me.

I restrain from shaking my head. "Were you sleepwalking?" She nods. "Do you remember anything?"

"No. Just the sound of hooves. I like to think a unicorn helped me get out of the forest."

I smirk.

Torvus.

No shadow of a doubt.

"Please, keep your arm steady," I tell her, raising my wand. " _Episkey!_ "

The cut instantly closes, leaving no marks on her arm. A simply _Scourgify_ removes the blood stains, and I lightly tap her shoulder and smile.

"You're good to go."

"Wow," she says. "Thank you."

I watch her run off with a smile and turn to the next student. My life may be an utter mess, but at least I can do something useful here, in the hospital wing. It's a comforting thought.

* * *

Rowan doesn't seem to have noticed I've been away the entire morning, because when I leave the hospital wing to take a lonely stroll around the Greenhouses, I spot her and Charlie completely immersed in a deep, passionate kiss – honestly, almost eating each other's faces – in a shadowy corner. Unsurprisingly, they don't notice when I walk past.

I find Tonks and Tulip also lurking around the Greenhouses, eyeing the moving plants inside the Greenhouse Four.

"Hey, girls," I say.

"Hi, Athena." Tulip smiles at me.

"Which of these plants do you think would work best for bothering a certain irritable, birdlike librarian?" Tonks asks, her heart-shaped face lighting up with a mischievous smile.

I shrug. "As a Ravenclaw, I feel like I should advise you to stay out of trouble, but as I can't seem to do this myself, I'll be content with not helping you. Carry on."

They giggle, and I continue my stroll. I'm just making the turn around Greenhouse Six, when I feel someone grab the back of my jacket and pull me inside the Greenhouse. Before I have a chance to resist, or even cry out, I find myself staring up into familiar emerald eyes.

I melt.

"What are you doing wandering around the castle by yourself?" Barnaby smirks, holding me by my waist.

"What are you doing lurking inside Greenhouses, ensnaring unsuspecting girls?" I raise my eyebrows at him.

"I wasn't," he says. "I was talking to Lizard Tuttle about Murtlaps."

" _Lizard Turtle?_ " I ask. "You were talking to a magical creature about another magical creature?"

He snickers. "No, not turtle. _Tuttle_. Liz Tuttle. She's a girl from my house. She's really into magical creatures."

"Seems like you two would make a good pair," I say casually. Ignoring the comment, he pulls me closer.

He doesn't say anything; instead, he simply flashes me an amused smile and raises my chin with his hand, slowly bringing his lips towards mine, softly biting my bottom lip.

 _Dear God…_

"Stop," I say, gently pushing him away.

"What's wrong?" He looks baffled.

"You said you'd _occasionally_ harass me," I say. "Not every day…"

He smirks again. "I didn't harass you this whole week."

"Except yesterday."

"OK, but I didn't harass you this whole week _before yesterday_!"

"Yeah, but you keep looking at me like this," I say sharply, indicating his naughty expression. "And it's driving me crazy!"

I didn't mean to sound so rude, and the painful expression on his face makes my heart shatter; so, I simply step away from him, leaving the Greenhouse and Barnaby behind me, a dark cloud around my heart.

* * *

 _Dear Mum,_

 _I…_

Late that evening, I rest my quill inside the inkpot, dropping my face into my hands. _Why am I writing her a letter?_ What am I going to say? You're dead, Mum, and you left me. You left me…

I rip the parchment into pieces and toss it into the bin. Pulling a fresh piece of parchment toward me, I grab my quill and start writing to someone who I think could actually help me right now.

 _Dear Holly,_

 _I've no words to tell you how much I miss you right now. Though I know I'll be seeing you during the holidays, it hurts me to not have your sweet presence and thoughtful advice with me all the time. I hope things are fine in Lockhart Gardens, and that you are happy._

 _I'm actually writing because I desperately need your wisdom right now. Things are getting extremely hectic in the castle – with the sleepwalking epidemic and the Cursed Vaults threatening everything. But there's also something else that's making my heart feel heavy._

 _I have a friend here – his name is Barnaby – and he's surprisingly sweet for a Slytherin boy. We got to know each other under very ugly terms; he used to be friends with Merula, a girl who absolutely despises me, and she would convince him to threaten me at all times. But a completely unexpected twist of fate actually brought him to my side, and we ended up becoming great friends._

 _You're probably wondering what's so problematic about that, but what ended up happening is that, during the Halloween party, he told me he's in love with me! And again, what's the problem with that, right? I mean, he's tall and handsome, a bit confused, but extremely kind and loyal. However, even though I also have extremely strong feelings for him, I still can't help but question myself. I mean, is this really the right moment for something like this to happen in my life?_

 _It kills me to know that I may break his heart, especially since he has such a pure one, but I don't want to feed this feeling while knowing that there are more important things on my mind right now than love. I so desperately want to find Jake, and even though I didn't come to Hogwarts with the intention of wandering around breaking dreadful curses, it seems like it's become something that I must do._

 _Sometimes I wish things could just be normal for a while, just so I could sit back and enjoy my adolescence; with Barnaby, perhaps. But all I seem to care about, and think about, is my brother. I don't think I could actually give myself to Barnaby completely, not while Jake is still missing._

 _But all of this… it's breaking my heart._

 _What should I do, Holly?_

 _Waves of love,_

 _Athena_

* * *

"For this year's Christmas spectacle," Professor Flitwick says when we gather for choir practice on Monday morning, "I suggest we do something different. I would like each and every one of you to compose a Christmas song. You may work in pairs if you wish, and you have until the end of the month to perform it for me. The best one will be performed during the Christmas feast."

I sigh as the room breaks up into excited murmurs, wondering if all the events in my life will somehow inspire me to compose a song.

Perhaps a wizarding version of the Twelve Days of Christmas. _On the first day of Christmas, the Cursed Vaults gave to me…_

I let out an involuntary snort of laughter and hurriedly stifle my amusement. No one notices.

My daydreams are wiped from my mind as soon as I get to Professor Kettleburn's mid-morning class. Everyone is gathered around a table where three funny-looking rat-like creatures are playing with one another.

"Murtlaps!" Professor Kettleburn says excitedly, as we crowd around the table. "Who can tell me what they are? Yes, Miss Tuttle."

The name jogs my memory, and I glance over to see a dark-skinned girl with thick round glasses lowering her hand as she answers the question. I have seen her in several classes before, but I haven't really paid her any mind.

"Marine beasts resembling a rat, with a growth on their backs resembling a sea anemone."

She's standing right beside Barnaby, and despite the lighthearted suggestion I made to him on Sunday, my heart feels suddenly heavy when I notice the proximity between them.

"It actually resembles Merula's hair," Charlie whispers to Rowan and they snicker discretely. I let myself join in, momentarily distracted.

Then I shoot a furtive glance at Liz's glossy black hair, flawlessly styled into several small buns and offset with a green headband that perfectly matches her Slytherin uniform. Behind her glasses, her dark eyes seem deep and thoughtful, and I notice she has binoculars hanging around her neck. Her skin is the same shade as milk chocolate, and my stomach twists nervously when I remember Barnaby telling me how much he likes chocolate.

I look away hurriedly, trying to concentrate on the playful Murtlaps, which are biting each others' ears.

"Can someone tell me the properties of Murtlap Essence?" Professor Kettleburn asks.

This time it's my turn to raise my hand.

"Miss Lockhart," he says.

"Murtlap Essence is a home remedy for cuts and abrasions, and it's used in many different potions, elixirs, pomades, and ointments."

"Very good," he says with a smile.

"It's also said that the growth on their backs may be pickled and eaten to improve one's resistance to jinxes," Liz says. "Is that true?"

"Indeed," Professor Kettleburn says. "Although eating an excess of the pickled growth may cause one to grow unsightly purple ear hair."

"Fascinating," Liz says, taking notes in her purple notebook.

I grumble, but Rowan doesn't seem to notice.

"Now gather in groups, so you can handle these delightful creatures," Professor Kettleburn says. I turn automatically towards Barnaby and see him walking in our direction, accompanied by Liz.

"Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Liz Tuttle," he says, grinning.

"Liz," Charlie says. "As in short for Elizabeth?"

"No, short for Lizard," she says with a confident smile.

I sigh, trying to focus on the first activity, which is feeding the Murtlaps. Barnaby, Liz, and Charlie seem excited to touch them, whereas Rowan is content with simply standing back and taking notes.

"Did you notice how Charlie smells like grass and honeysuckle?" she says dreamily, giving me a goofy grin.

"No," I say. "I have never… smelled him."

I manage to get through the lesson without flipping out. Every time Barnaby and Liz exchange amused laughs, I feel my heart shattering a little bit. My fingers clench my quill tightly, and when the lesson ends my notes are spattered with ink blots.

Stay calm.

Relax.

This is for the best.

She's clearly better for him than you.

He deserves someone like her.

STOP BEING JEALOUS! GODDAMMIT!

"What's the matter with you?" Rowan asks, as she escorts me to the changing rooms after class.

"Nothing." I sigh, slamming the locker shut a little harder than I meant to. "I'm just nervous about this task Professor Flitwick gave us… to write a new Christmas song."

"Sounds exciting," she says. "Promise me you'll let me hear it first."

"Sure thing," I say, feeling awful for my lie.

* * *

Quidditch makes me feel very slightly better, and I feel thankful I get to spend the next hour simply flying around the pitch, practicing the Sloth Grip Roll to avoid Bludgers sent by Andre.

"All right, guys!" Matt says, when we're safely on the ground. "If we keep this up and stay in rhythm, we'll totally kick those Hufflepuffs' arses in December! And great job, Link. You're an excellent Keeper!"

I rest my broom on my shoulder and return to the changing rooms, where I swap my Quidditch gear out for my uniform, and then head to the Great Hall for lunch. Halfway there, however, I'm intercepted by a cheerful Addison.

"Hey, Athena," she says, a bright smile fighting for purchase on her face. I draw to a halt and look at her. "How are you doing?"

"Good." I frown, wondering why she suddenly decided to be all friendly towards me. "You?"

"Oh, I'm good too," she says, still grinning horribly. "I... I've been meaning to ask you something…"

"Yes?" I prompt, when she doesn't continue.

She takes a deep breath. "Do you know if Matt's dating anyone."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know…" She giggles. "Matt Miller! He's your captain, right?"

"Yeah." _I should have known._ I start walking again. "He is, but–"

She hops into step beside me, still staring me down with determined excitement. "I just wanted to know if he's ever said anything about me."

"About you?" I notice I'm sounding a little bit impolite, but I've had a long day, damn it, and it's not even lunch yet. _And_ I'm starving.

"Yeah," she continues, entirely oblivious to my tone. "I mean, he's absolutely dreamy, and I've been dreaming 'bout him almost every single night, and–"

"Addy," I say, stopping abruptly. "I honestly, honestly, _honestly_ know nothing 'bout Matt's personal affairs. But if you like him, go for it. Tell him how you feel."

"But what if he doesn't like me back?" she asks, clearly fearing the possibility.

"There are much worse things than that," I tell her, and continue making my way back to the castle. And I don't plan to stop for a single other bloody thing. "Believe me."

She watches me walk away, her eyes wide, and I suspect that she doesn't.

I sigh.

 _Oh, Addison… you sweet, sweet summer child._


	70. Year 4: Chapter 18 - Let by the Nightmar

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! How are you all doing today? Before we head to the chapter, I wanna send a big shout out to my wonderful _Beta,_ **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who is also an incredible writer here and you should definitely check out her stories. She's the reason why today's chapter is even better than when I first wrote it. She helped me develop it so it could be true to the characters and very, very emotional. Thank you, **Rina** , for all the love, help and support. Also, I'd like to thank **Son of Whitebeard** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **James018** , **SKKAgentCates** and **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** for the sweet reviews. You guys, rock! I also wanna thank **Wingedcorgi** for the inspiration to write one of the scenes. To finish, I wanna thank all the new followers. I hope you're enjoying the story. Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen – Led by the Nightmares**

* * *

As November draws to a close, Professor Flitwick's assignment follows me around everywhere, the prospect of it weighing me down and lifting me up all at once. So, on Saturday morning, I head to the choir room in search of some lonely practice time.

With the early sunrays drifting in through the windows, the room looks gloomy and abandoned. I sit by the piano, opening the music sheet in front of me – already full of scratched-out passages and notes – and begin strumming the keys.

" _Magical night… enchanted night… all is spark… all is light…_ " I sing, my voice merely a whisper against the melancholic sound of the piano. " _Around the castle, we all sing aloud… All together is this witching sound… Feel the magic increase… Feel the magic increase._ "

I stop for a while, resting my hands over the keys, wondering why I'm even wasting my energy by writing this song. My fellow choir mates are insanely talented, and they'll surely end up with something better than my dreary wizarding version of _Silent Night_.

" _Magical night… enchanted night... feel the sorcery in the light… spells flow in the starry skies… the Merpeople sing their lullabies… sleep, oh dear unicorn… sleep, oh dear unicorn._ "

I haven't shown Rowan this song yet, even though I promised her she'd be the first person to hear it. I gently press the pedal, wondering if I should've asked her to stay and watch.

" _Magical night… enchanted night… wondrous charms… show your light… with the magical creatures around… with great joy we all sing aloud… feel the hope in the air… feel the hope in the air."_

There's a certain beauty about loneliness… considering the fact that I'm rarely by myself, it feels good to appreciate the magic of solitude after these few hectic weeks.

" _Magical night… enchanted night… charms that glow… illume the snow… radiant beams in this secret place… with the dawn of this magical pace… feel the charm from the earth… feel the charm from the earth_."

I close my eyes as my fingers run though the final chords, and I almost fall off the bench when a sudden clapping sound starts right behind me.

"Forgive me for startling you, Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says with a gentle smile as I whirl to face him. "This song… you wrote it?"

I take a deep breath as my heart to starts beating normally again, and nod.

"Yes, sir," I say. "I just adapted the melody."

"Impressive," he says. "Though it sounds a bit melancholic, if you don't mind me saying so. Is everything all right?"

I swallow hard, staring at my music sheet, and sigh. "I'm… I'm not sure."

"Is this about your brother?"

I nod. "Christmas is coming and… it'll be another holiday without him."

"I suppose this hasn't made you trust Madam Rakepick any better?"

"No," I tell him. "The Vault is still cursing the castle. Just this week, I helped Madam Pomfrey mend my roommate Zelda's broken bones. She sleepwalked straight into the Whomping Willow."

"So I heard," he says. "And are you doing something to end this curse?"

He looks at me intensely as I hurriedly shake my head, and I feel terrible for lying to him, even though I know it's for the best. Only Professor Snape seems to know what I'm up to, and I don't want another lecture from Professor Dumbledore at the end of the year.

"No," I say. "I assumed it'd be wiser to leave it to Professor Dumbledore. I'm not skilled enough for this, and I'd only endanger myself."

"I'm glad to hear that, Miss Lockhart," he says.

I leave the room after another hour or so and walk straight to the Black Lake, plopping down by its edge in solitude and hugging my legs as I rest my chin on my knees.

The frosty November wind makes my hair stream out behind me as I stare out over the chilly water. I withdraw Holly's letter from my pocket; the one I've read so many times as I gloomily tried to make her words a part of me, that the parchment has almost lost its desire to curl. I glance at it again now, focusing on her rounded penmanship through blurry eyes, feeling warm tears growing cold as they slide down my cheeks.

 _My dearest,_

 _It saddens me to hear you're going through such havoc and turmoil. I miss you equally, more that I can say, and it fills me with joy to know you'll soon be coming back home. Things around here are delightful as usual; your grandfather has just finished his new novel and he'll soon send you a reviewed and autographed copy. Your grandmother is working a lot, brewing several orders of potions after a very awful doxy infestation here in South Hams._

 _I admit, it brought a smile to my face to hear about your feelings for your dear friend Barnaby. He is a wonderful example that people can, indeed, change… and that everyone deserves another chance. I'm sure he's pure of heart and very deserving of your love and appreciation._

 _But Athena, you are still so young. And even though this is something that probably sounds incredibly irritating to hear, you still have so much life to live, so many experiences to behold, and you should not be worrying about giving your heart to someone just yet. You are a wondrous girl, worthy of all the love in the world, and Barnaby won't be the last one to catch your eye or to steal your heart. Though I agree you should enjoy your adolescence and have some experiences of your own, I also believe that you're right for not wanting to hurt his feelings… if you're feeling as hesitant as you are right now._

 _People's hearts are not to be played with and sometimes a broken heart can take forever to heal. If you feel like this is not the right moment – and even if the right moment never comes – I strongly suggest you follow your mind and not your heart. I know you're desperate to find your brother and this is your main priority right now. There's plenty of time to fall in love, and perhaps it would be wiser to let these feelings that are lying inside your heart to slowly vanish… for there will be new feelings to replace them. Your heart, my dearest, is incredibly full._

 _If Barnaby is as sweet as you say, it shall take no time for him to find someone who will love him like he deserves to be loved. You're both still very fresh seeds, and only time will lead you to your proper growing. You, my darling, are destined for great things in this world, and worrying about such young love isn't something that should be preoccupying your mind._

 _Let time do its job. It will heal, and it will tell you when the right moment comes, and when it does, you won't have any doubts. I have found an old Shakespeare book in the basement and this passage seems to be the truest of them all: 'Love is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.' You'll find your true love, my dear. If you're doubtful right now, maybe it's not meant to be._

 _Write me whenever you feel your heart aching. I'll always be here for you, and I'll always try my best to make you smile again._

 _Love always,_

 _Holly_

I read Holly's letter one more time before folding it and putting it back in my pocket. A sigh escapes from my lips as I stare at the dark surface of the lake, watching as the few rays of sun that have broken through the cover of clouds bounce off the calm water.

A sudden crackling sound of leaves behind me makes me turn abruptly, breaking my trance.

"Ben," I say, perplexed, when he sits down beside me.

"Hey," he says, resting his head on my shoulder.

"How are–"

"Shhh," he says. "Don't say anything. I just really need you right now."

I swallow hard, resting my head against his, closing my eyes to the outside world. The sound of the Giant Squid's tentacles coming to the surface blends with the chirping of the birds and Ben's deep breathing. I feel him reaching for one of my hands, and he lightly grazes my knuckles with his lips, his hot breath warming my cold skin. It's such a subtle gesture, which makes me remember when I did the same for him when he was rescued from the cursed ice, that it brings more tears to my eyes.

We remain like that for a while, until he unceremoniously stands up, leaving me alone in the cold air again. I sigh, watching my breath becoming vapor before my eyes, and dry my tears. There's so much wrong with my world and all I want is to make everything right again.

There's no way I could possibly bring Mum back, but I know there's still hope of finding Jake.

* * *

On Monday, the last day of November, the choir gathers inside the practice room, chattering excitedly about the upcoming Christmas songs. I sit next to the wall, resting my head against the cold stones, being lulled to sleep by the sweet melodies of my companions' songs. I close my eyes, remembering when I first entered this room, when I was just eleven.

I think I doze off for a while, because suddenly I hear Professor Flitwick calling my name.

"And last, but not least, Miss Lockhart," he says, and I shake the sleepiness away, heading to the piano.

I don't even have to look at the sheet in front of me. _Silent Night_ is a song I've played countless times before, and I just have to play it an octave lower than usual to bring in the necessary melancholic melody I need.

The notes come naturally, and I find myself, once again, singing with my eyes closed. The darkness behind my lids makes me feel less exposed and, somehow, a little bit safer.

" _Magical night… enchanted night…"_ I sing, blissfully unaware of what my choir mates are thinking about my adaptation of _Silent Night_.

I finish the song with some extra flourishes and finally open my eyes. They are all applauding, just like they've done with all the previous songs, so I can't have been much worse than the rest of the presentations, at least.

"Wonderful, Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says. "Now, I want to congratulate you all for the remarkable work and I'll let you know my final decision on December 7th."

Leaving the classroom, I accidentally overhear bits of a conversation between two Hufflepuff seventh year girls, Layla and Bree, directly ahead of me.

"Do you think Athena is depressed?" Layla asks.

"Maybe? Her song sounded like a funeral march," Bree says.

I sigh, letting them draw ahead as they turn into the corridor. They don't see me right behind them.

* * *

On Wednesday, Professor Kettleburn seems to be extremely distressed, greeting us with a slightly crazed look of concern on his pale face as we queue up for Care of Magical Creatures.

"Did any of you happen to have seen my chimaera?" he asks, worried. "It ran straight into the castle… I hope it's okay…"

Charlie looks at Rowan with an excited smile, as if he can't quite imagine anything more exciting than chasing down a wild chimaera that's stalking the castle. She, on the other hand, raises her eyebrows and flashes me a rather preoccupied expression.

 _Note to self: write a letter to Grandpa about a loose chimaera wandering around the school._

On Thursday, I walk with Rowan and Tulip to our Potions lesson, discussing the upcoming Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff match and the approaching exams. The rest of the students arrive, and from the corner of my eye I can see Barnaby sitting with Liz, happily ensconced in discussion.

"All right, you unworthy lot," Professor Snape says, abruptly entering the room with his back ramrod straight and his chin raised. He struts about the classroom, finally stopping right in front of the blackboard. "Today I shall bless you all with the subtle nuances of potion making. Ten points to Slytherin."

I frown, my eyebrows drawing up in puzzlement.

"Miss Murk, you're breathing too loudly," he says sharply. "One hundred points from Slytherin."

My jaw drops, and I stare at Ismelda, who looks outraged. Before she can respond, however, Professor Snape turns sharply and walks towards Merula.

"But I shall reward two hundred points to Slytherin," he says, stopping before her and running his fingers through her short hair. "For Miss Snyde's excessive cuteness."

Merula jumps to her feet, her chair clattering loudly to the floor behind her, and stares at Professor Snape, apparently speechless, as he sweeps back toward the front of the room in a very bat-like fashion.

I stare, wide-eyed, feeling positively sure that the only explanation for this absurdly uncommon behaviour is that this is a dream. An extremely bizarre dream.

"Heat up your cauldrons, for today you shall learn about the deadliest potion of them all," he says, with mystery in his voice. "The shampoo."

" _Detention, Miss Tonks._ "

I whirl to see a second Professor Snape entering the gloomy classroom, looking livid with fury. I glance back towards the blackboard to see the other Professor Snape suddenly shrinking, his hair turning a bright shade of bubble-gum pink.

A snicker escapes Tonks's lips as she rushes away from the classroom, pulling her long robes up as she runs so she won't trip.

"Surreal," Rowan says.

"That's my girl," Tulip says, smirking.

Professor Snape furiously writes out the instructions to brew a strong Belladonna extract on the blackboard, breaking several pieces of chalk in the process. I take careful notes, wondering how many times Tonks will have to scrub the dungeon floors or polish the medals in the Trophy Room for that one.

The rest of the day passes without incident, finishing with a Defence class about _Salvio Hexia_ from our beautiful Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher; though even her wonderful lesson is unable to remove the preoccupation from my mind.

"Miss Lockhart," she says, stopping by my desk when the class is over, and the other students are rushing to the exit. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Professor," I lie, slipping my books and parchment into my bag.

She places a hand on my shoulder for a moment, flashing me a reassuring smile.

"If it's not, my door is always open, all right?"

I nod; but not even the sight of her sweet face, bursting with the desire to help me, makes me feel any better. It feels like everything in the world is just piling up and up around me.

If this keeps going, I feel like pretty soon I won't be able to even find the path forward anymore.

* * *

It seems like everything hanging around my head these days is not conducive to a night of restful sleep.

I took all my problems to bed with me, as usual, wrapping myself with angst like a blanket. Not even the warmth of my bed is enough to provide any comfort, and I end up falling into darkness and coldness as I awake into a nightmare.

Something deep within me seems to be calling out for help. It's a desperate voice that I don't fully recognize. In my dream, I run, trying to reach it, and my hands wrap around something long and lean. I take a closer look and realize I'm holding my Silver Arrow. After that, everything feels very instinctive. I climb on, take flight. The wind is in my hair, rushing past me in billows. For once, I am not leading _. Something is leading me._ I relax, let the dream take hold of me.

Perhaps the answers I seek will come to me from within the dark confines of my subconscious mind.

At first, the landscape around me is dark and foggy. It almost feels as if my vision is blurred, but things start to grow clearer as I fly, dark shapes forming out of shadows before me. I breathe in the cool night air, revel in the wind caressing my face. I begin to see the silhouettes of trees and even spot a dark bird, starkly outlined against the clouds. The moon blurs into focus and the broom seems to fly faster, harder.

It is the most vivid dream I've ever had.

A sudden uneasiness begins to take hold of me, and I start to feel quite anxious and unwell, as if something awful is about to happen.

I am suddenly acutely aware that I don't want to know. I don't want to see whatever this dream is showing me. Everything around me abruptly blurs again.

It's time to wake up. _Time to wake up._

I blink, startled, forcing my eyes open against the heaviness weighing down on them. My breath catches in my chest, and I feel cold sweat running down my back. There's a freezing wind blowing against my face and the scene before me isn't a warm and cosy dorm.

It is the dark outline of the Forbidden Forest.

 _I'm actually flying._

I slip on the broom, which dips violently beneath me, just managing to hold on to my position in the air as I glance around, dumbfounded. The wind blowing in my face is twice as cold now, and I'm shaking violently as the sweat on my face and back freezes in the cold night air.

I tighten my grip around my broom and swallow hard, wondering how the hell this happened, when I spot the familiar grove of trees that I have visited before, its earthy floor flooded with moonlight.

I should turn around now, head back to the dorm.

I nearly sleep-flew into the forest, it seems. Why? _Was it the Vaults?_ The sleepwalking curse? But I'm awake now; it's not too late. I can just turn around, head back to the safety of the castle…

 _Turn around, Athena…_

Despite the bizarreness of this situation… Despite the howls I hear in the distance, shattering the silence of the night, and freezing cold that overwhelms me, my curiosity is burning with an almost feverish intensity.

I might be here by accident, but I _am_ here, aren't I? Maybe the Vaults themselves are calling me, pulling me into the forest to help me find the arrowhead. Maybe it's a sign. Maybe tonight is the night...

This time, I do not hear Twilight's hoot; in fact, I seem to be immersed in complete and dreadful silence. I touch down softly upon the dried grass, placing my bare feet firmly on the ground, and reach for my pocket. My slightly numb fingers brush the cold fabric of my pyjamas and somehow, _thankfully_ , I feel the firm shape of my wand. I frown, wondering when – _how_ –I managed to grab it, but it's a relief, and I am content not to question it. I grasp it tightly, lifting it before me, and the light smell of cinnamon brushes across my face, mingling with the mossy scent of the forest.

I find it somehow fortifying; a small measure of safety. Of home.

I think of Rakepick's Niffler and how Barnaby and Charlie are still working with him, building a relationship of trust with the little creature. I wish that I had Sickleworth with me now, but if I don't find the arrowhead tonight, we can always make another trip.

I walk slowly into the shadow of the forest, placing my numb feet lightly on the grass, passing the same broken tree I found last time. I haven't ventured past this place before, because this is where I met Torvus. I raise my head, looking around, but I do not hear hooves. In fact, it is entirely silent. Nevertheless, I continue to walk forward, with my wand firm in my hand. A sudden cracking sound behind me shatters the silence, making me whirl around abruptly, but there's nothing there. I glance around, my eyes sweeping the shadows, cold sweat breaking out across my back.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

I turn back around, determined to continue my journey… and walk straight into someone very solid.

" _Lumos!"_ I hiss, aiming my wand forward as I stumble back, and the sudden light from my wand nearly blinds me. The person before me lets out a sharp gasp as I blink furiously, trying to get my bearings, until I can make out the person standing in front of me.

I lower my hand, shocked, aiming the wand light at the ground.

"Don't attack me!" Tulip cries desperately, covering her face with her hands.

"Tulip!" I gasp. " _What the hell are you doing here?_ "

"I saw you grabbing your broom from under the bed," she says, lowering her hands as she squints up at me. "I tried to wake you, but I didn't want to cause a commotion inside the dorm. So, I put your wand in your pocket, used _Reducio_ on myself and followed you, inside your pocket."

"You're out of your mind!" I say, exasperated. "Tulip, this isn't a playground!"

"I know," she says. "It was a little crazy, but I wasn't sure what else to do! You wouldn't wake up, and I couldn't let you just fly off alone, and there wasn't time to get anyone. I'm just trying to help, Athena. I wanna prove that I'm trustworthy…"

"I won't keep repeating that I _do_ trust you, Tulip. Now go back to the castle!"

"And leave you here alone? No way!"

I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself as she glares at me defiantly. I realize the foolishness of what I'm asking her; there is only one broom, after all. I can hardly suggest that she walk back to the castle through the forest...

"Fine," I say finally, "you can stay. _And thank you_ … I woke up as I was flying, but I figured since I'm here, I might as well look for the arrowhead."

"You're crazy!" she says, with a slight moan, but she looks altogether impressed.

"Let's go then," I say finally.

She nods, her lips pressed tightly together, and we set off further into the trees, my wand light making patterns on the ground before us. Within several minutes, my feet are throbbing with cold, and I am about to give it all up as a bad job and head back to the castle. My mind drifts to plans to come back, properly dressed, with Sickleworth at my side instead of Tulip, and with less chances of catching pneumonia, when a sickening smell permeates my nostrils.

I freeze, chills running down my spine as I recognize the metallic smell of blood. Tulip nearly walks into me, and I grab her arm as I turn around, placing my index finger to my lips. She stares at me, her eyes wide, and her question dies on her lips. I glance over at another fallen tree – this place seems to be full of them – and make my way silently towards its base, my heart beating violently in my chest, as I wonder at the stupidity of my actions. Tulip follows me as we reach the place where the branches fell.

A small den.

"Wand in hand, Tulip," I whisper, and she follows me to the inside of the cave.

It is larger on the inside, approximately five meters high, and in the glowing light of my wand, I can see the place is full of all sorts of baubles: bird cages, wooden boxes, broken shovels…

I inhale sharply when I see a huge blood stain right in the middle of the cave. I slowly approach it, the intense smell of it flooding my nostrils, and my heart almost stops when I see a pile of skulls carelessly lying next to an opened treasure chest. The blood doesn't seem to be contained to just the middle of the cave; there are smaller stains leading away to a smaller opening, on the other side of the cave. I trail my wand over it, the black blood glistening sickeningly, trying to make out what is on the other side of the cave, when a sudden snicker makes me whirl around.

A strange, small creature is devilishly hopping over the bloodstain in the centre of the cave.

Tulip also has her wand pointed at the little creature – an ugly little imp, bearing an evil-looking expression. It's wearing a red hat resembling the top of an Amanita mushroom.

"It's a Red Cap," she says. "They–"

"Hide in places where blood has been shed," I say quietly.

The little Red Cap giggles viciously and risks a tiny step in my direction.

" _Glacius!_ " I say sharply, and a bolt of icy blue light bursts forth from my wand, hitting the Red Cap straight in the face and freezing him in a block of thick ice.

I take a few deep breaths, skirting around the blood as I cross the den to get to the smaller entrance, and drop to my knees to crawl through it.

" _Where are you going?_ " Tulip hisses, following me. "I thought you were looking for the arrowhead. I don't think you should go over there, Athena. It looks like something murderous just ate a unicorn or something!"

I do not respond; somehow the trail of blood makes me think of my last nightmare… and the call for help. I straighten up as I crawl out of the opening. I'm now standing in a tiny, enclosed glade, surrounded by tall stones and roots. There seems to be no way in or out, except the small opening that leads back to the Red Cap's den. I step forward automatically as Tulip pushes into the glade behind me, and she climbs to her feet as well, glancing around.

The metallic scent is much stronger here, the shadows darker.

" _Lumos Maxima,"_ I whisper apprehensively, flooding the glade with light.

Then I turn slowly around, making a full circle, my heart pounding violently against my throat as I search for the source of the smell.

I find it.

It's not a unicorn.

 _Oh my God._

I hear Tulip's sudden terrified scream, echoing throughout the glade. But I am frozen. Frozen.

 _Oh my God._

My eyes are locked on the fallen body, lying next to a mossy rock, surrounded by a puddle of fresh blood. My mouth opens silently, closes, as my breath catches in my throat.

" _Athena!_ "

I realize Tulip is calling my name weakly as she grabs at my sleeve, shaking my arm. I force my feet forward; make my way towards it as she shuffles behind me, sniffling.

"It's… it's… Julian L-long," I manage, feeling the tears well in my eyes as I recognize the eleven-year-old boy. Part of our house… twin brother of Nora Long…

 _Oh my God._

His eyes are open and unseeing, turned to the closed canopy above us, his skin paler than ivory. Over his exposed stomach is a gathering of Flesh-Eating Slugs and two small Erklings, feeding on his gory flesh. The sight makes my stomach contract violently.

A sudden crashing sound behind me makes me whirl around and I see Tulip's collapsed form, lying prone over a pile of decaying leaves, her dark red hair spread out around her.

I inhale sharply, dropping down beside her, shaking her shoulder. No response. I am alone. Alone…

 _Oh Merlin…_

It's unbearable to turn around to meet Julian's face, but I _have_ to help him. My wand shakes as I approach him. The animals that are feeding on his body are making my vision swim and shake as I deliberately step toward him, but I refuse to just leave him lying there. I can't…

A sudden beam of light comes from behind me and makes the little creatures wither and disintegrate, leaving only Julian's body, still as death beneath the night air. I feel nothing, no fear, no surprise; nothing could surprise me now. I feel as if I am floating, functioning merely by forced movement. I turn around instinctively, my eyes landing on the tall and imposing presence of Professor Snape. I feel nothing. I have no questions.

He looks at me, not with anger, but with concern, I think. I barely register it; do not have the mental space for it. I fall to my knees, feeling the tears flooding my eyes.

 _"Episkey…_ " I choke out, aiming my wand at Julian… but nothing seems to happen. " _Episkey!"_

"Miss Lockhart, stop," Professor Snape says, grabbing my wrists firmly, staring at me with jet-black eyes that seem to swim in and out of focus. "He's gone."

I stare at Julian's lifeless eyes, instantly finding myself back in the living room in Sunderland.

 _The place where I found my lifeless mother._

Professor Snape lets go of my wrists, approaches Julian as I sit mutely on the floor.

"He was attacked by a Swooping Evil," he says, kneeling next to first year boy.

"A what?" I ask, amidst tears, raising my face to look at him.

"It's a creature that looks like a cross between a snake and a butterfly," he says softly. "It feeds on people's brains."

"Oh my God," I moan, noticing the small hole in Julian's head, right above his left eyebrow.

"But he wasn't killed by it," he says.

"How do you k-know?"

"Because there are incisions in his wrists," he says calmly, glancing back at me. His expression is hard. Unreadable. "He was killed by an Acromantula."


	71. Year 4: Chapter 19 - License to Recover

**A/N:** Hello, you guys! How are you? I'm sorry for not posting yesterday. It was a busy day, so I'm only uploading the chapter now. First of all, I'd like to thank my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who is amazing person and writer. I also wanna thank **Son of Whitebeard** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **serendipitymadness** and **Sonny Daniels** for the sweet reviews. I wanna send a special shout out to **Poppy** , who left me a wonderful review that made me truly, truly happy. Thank you! To finish, I wanna thank you all for the almost 42.000 views and 341 reviews; and to the 71 of you that are following the story. You are truly amazing! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen – License to Recover**

* * *

Darkness.

It's all that seems to exist.

Darkness… cold… pain… blood… _and death_.

Flashes of the previous night swirl in between the dark, overwhelming me with another set of painful memories. Only this time, I won't be the only one hurt by them.

Somehow, I can't seem to remember Nora Long's face.

I'm not sure how we managed to get Julian away from the den, and even less sure of how Torvus ended up finding us. Professor Snape took the boy away from the forest while the shocked Centaur promised to escort Tulip and me safely back to my broom. Needless to say, I don't know how we managed to return to the castle. I remember only moments. Flashes.

I remember how the shadows of the trees reached for us as we stumbled through the underbrush, slightly blurry through my tear-soaked eyes. I remember the weight of Tulip's arm around my shoulder as I dragged her along, her feet barely moving as she struggled to stay awake beside me.

I remember the wind in my hair as we flew. I remember Tulip's sobs, wrecking her frame behind me, her arms trembling as she held tight to my waist.

I _cannot_ remember what Rowan said to me, as I pushed Tulip down onto her bed, where she dissolved immediately into a fresh bout of tears. I remember her calling my name, her voice anxious. Afraid. But everything else is a blur. Everything else is dark.

I think… that I remember falling.

The floor had never felt so soft.

" _Wake up, Athena."_

I hear Rowan's voice, feel her shaking my shoulders.

I blink my eyes open, fighting off the heaviness. I'm lying on my bed, and I can't imagine how I've gotten there. Rowan is staring down at me, her expression a mask of concern. The dorm is flooded with candlelight, and I sit up slowly, staring at the empty beds around me.

"Where's everyone?" I mumble.

"Flitwick has asked everyone to go down to the common room," she says. "He said it's an emergency."

The rest of Ravenclaw is crowding the place when I finally make my way down to the common room. There is a nervous energy within the place, and the room feels overwhelming and bright. The bronze door opens as I stare around flatly, revealing a somber-looking Professor Flitwick, clad in his sleeping robes.

The common room falls to silence. Still as death. I shudder.

"I have… much unfortunate news to give." His voice is quiet, but it nevertheless carries to every corner of the room as the students watch him with baited breath. "Just now, a student was found dead in the Forbidden Forest."

The room breaks out into a cacophony of gasps and muttering, and Professor Flitwick has to clap his hand loudly to call everyone's attention, until the silence is stretching thickly around us once more.

"It appears that the sleepwalking curse has claimed its first victim," he says quietly.

"Who is it, Professor?" our prefect, Audrey, asks after a painful silence.

"Julian Long," Professor Flitwick says, his voice cracking slightly, and all the first-year students let out desperate gasps.

"No!" a boy named Jacob cries, burying his face in his friend Oliver's shoulder.

His sobs are barely audible over the latest outbreak of whispers.

I stare about the room, feeling dreadfully cold inside.

 _Is this real?_

"Julian and Jacob were best friends," I hear Audrey telling Addison, who is holding Matt's sleeve very tightly.

A fresh tear finds its way down my cheek, but Rowan gently wipes it away before it can fall, her eyes locked on me intently. I avoid her gaze, digging my fingernails into my palms, trying to look shocked, but my legs begin to feel weak.

"The train will take you back to London tomorrow morning," Professor Flitwick says. "All exams have been cancelled, and you won't return until after the holidays. In the meantime, we will try our best to end this curse while you are safely away from the school."

Rowan softly takes my arm and leads me back to the dorm while everyone is still muttering and crying in the common room. Tulip follows us, seemingly out of place, her eyes wide and puffy.

"What happened?" Rowan asks seriously, looking between us. "Please, Athena…"

"I… was sleepwalking," I whisper. "And then I wasn't and… and… we found a Red Cap cave. There was a lot of blood and… _and I found Julian_."

Rowan covers her mouth with her hands. "Oh my God. Did you bring his body back?"

"No," I say, my voice cracking. "No, I… Professor Snape found us somehow."

" _Snape_ found you?" Rowan shrieks.

"He brought Julian back… and Torvus took us to my broom," I say. "It's all a blur, Row. I don't know what… I think I'm in great trouble."

"Athie, no, I'm sure that's not true…" Rowan whispers, hugging me. "It wasn't your fault." She is trembling, and I realize, in some disconnected part of my mind, what she must be thinking.

It was a close call, wasn't it?

It could have been me. Me, stumbling through the forest in my sleep. Me, lying upon the floor, torn to pieces.

 _Maybe it should have been…_

"How did Julian die?" Tulip asks, despair in her eyes. "I don't remember much before I… fainted?"

"He was… poisoned by an Acromantula," I choke out, burying the rest deep within me. _If I can at least spare her the details…_

The voices of our roommates echo on the steps, growing louder, and we fall silent. I collapse wearily onto my bed and Rowan lies down next to me, staring at me with concern. When the lights go out, I feel her grasp my hand tightly.

I can't fall asleep.

I lie there, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, focusing on Rowan's heavy breathing as I try to banish the vivid images of Julian from my mind. Julian, lying there… the blood…

At some point of the night, I feel Tulip crawl in beside us, hugging me around the waist. Being wedged between them makes me feel slightly better, but even so, sleep never comes.

The affliction in my heart grows heavier still as cold rays of grey light seep into the dorm from the steadily lightening sky. The world is still turning; time still passing, and yet Julian… Julian will never see another sunrise. And his sister. His family…

I turn my face, hiding the hot tears that slip down my nose.

 _Oh, it hurts._

Little by little the other girls wake up and drift out of the dorm, until the bustling noise of their hurried packing falls to silence. At last, I get up. I am so exhausted, I barely have the energy for feeling. Every inch of my body seems to ache, and I'm left with the same emptiness that possessed me when my mother died.

Rowan, Tulip, and I pack in silence and then head to the Great Hall for a much mournful breakfast. There are no professors at the main table, but I keep glancing at the place where Professor Snape usually sits. I wish he could come and tell me everything's going to be okay, somehow; that last night was just a dream – a nightmare. That he never found me, in a bloody glade in the forest, because I couldn't have possibly been there.

But the staff table remains empty. Perhaps it's for the best, anyway, because even though I don't remember seeing any anger in his eyes last night, I'm sure he must be very disappointed with me. I may not have left my dorm with intentions to go into the forest, but in the end, I _am_ the one who made that decision, and dragged Tulip alongside me into danger. But if I hadn't gone, would Julian have been…

I shudder and glance over at the Gryffindor table, but I don't see Nora Long anywhere. My heart fills with pain once more, the already bland food turning to cardboard in my mouth. I drop my fork and sit in silence as my friends finish eating around me. Then I get up, following them in a daze as they head back to the station, directly to the red Hogwarts Express.

Once again, we're all squeezed into the same compartment, besides Bill… except Ben doesn't sit with us this time. Barnaby squeezes in next to me and I glance at him, a brief flash of curiosity breaking through my listlessness. The warm presence of him beside me is achingly comforting.

"Aren't you going to sit with Liz?" I ask dully. The fleeting stab of jealously I experience when I think of her seems very deep down, buried beneath layers and layers of hurt.

"No," he says simply, taking my hand and staring at me with kind green eyes. "I'm not going to leave you."

Wearily, I rest my head against his shoulder, pressing my lips together to contain the tears.

"I knew you shouldn't have gone alone," Charlie says, looking at me with concern.

"I wasn't planning on going alone," I say wearily, but it seems like too much effort to explain everything that happened. "Besides, Tulip was with me…"

"Professor Sprout said Julian was found being devoured by forest creatures," Tonks says anxiously. The image her words conjure up is so vivid, I can no longer hold back my tears and they trail freely down my face as I let out a gasping sob.

" _Tonks!_ " Tulip says sharply.

"I'm so sorry!" she says, her hands over her mouth. "I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," I choke out. "It d-doesn't change anything."

The compartment falls into a brief and painful silence. Barnaby wraps his arm around me securely and I lean into him, my eyes squeezed shut, trying to regain control.

"We have to find this arrowhead," Charlie says finally. "When we return to Hogwarts."

"No." I glance around but barely seeing them through the curtain of tears. "I won't put any of you at risk."

Charlie shakes his head and draws his lips together, looking at me intently.

"That's enough, Athena. This isn't just about you anymore."

"No," I agree, "it's not. It's about Jacob, and –"

"NO, IT BLOODY ISN'T!" Charlie explodes, his face turning red. I gape at him. "WHAT IF IT HAD BEEN PERCY, IN THE FOREST?! WHAT IF IT HAD BEEN ANY OF US!"

"CHARLIE, DON'T YOU YELL AT HER!" Rowan yells.

"SOMEONE BLOODY HAS TO!" he shoots back. "SHE'S NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS. ATHENA, WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?!"

"STOP YELLING!" I cry, so loudly I almost feel my throat tear. I drop my face, hiding it in my hands.

Charlie draws back, but thankfully doesn't speak. No one else seems to know how to break the newfound silence. I feel Barnaby's hand caressing my hair, but this gesture only makes me sob even more. I feel so drained, so exhausted. I wonder how much more I can cry until I've been wrung dry. How can I possibly keep walking forward, when Julian and Nora and Jacob wait for me around every corner?

Barnaby wraps his arm around me tighter, and I am so tired, I almost want to give up. I want to let this all go. I want to close my eyes and sleep, and not wake up until everything is better. _I cannot even fathom a world where everything is better._ But whenever I look into the dreamlike darkness behind my lids, all I see are Julian's lifeless eyes.

I wonder, then, if sleep will ever come.

The hours that follow seem to take forever. When the train finally arrives at King's Cross, I see my grandfather waiting on the platform. I run to his arms, hugging his tightly, allowing the soothing tobacco scent of him to completely overwhelm me.

He is safety. _Home._

"Darling," he says. "What happened?"

A different hand touching my back makes me raise my head. I look at seven different pairs of eyes, all staring at me with concern.

Rowan… Penny… Tulip… Tonks… Barnaby… Charlie… and Bill.

"Mr. Lockhart," Bill says, greeting my grandfather. "It is nice to see you again. Even if under dreadful circumstances."

"Sir, we don't think Athena should be alone right now," Rowan adds. "I mean… we'd like to stay with her. If that's possible."

"Of course," Grandpa says, looking at me with worried blue eyes. "You are all welcome at Lockhart Gardens. I just… I mean… did your families agree to this?"

"I've spoken to my parents," Rowan says. "They're okay with this. We don't celebrate Christmas, after all."

I glance around at my friends, see them nodding alongside her, offering affirmations of their own.

When did they? _How_ did they?

It doesn't even matter, I think, feeling warmth spread through me at the sight of their faces. _Thank Merlin for them._ I don't even have words.

* * *

A month. That's how long we'll stay away from the cursed castle. My friends had all spoken to their parents, some from the train and some after, saying I was traumatized about Julian's death, because it brought back memories about my mother.

If only they knew how true that was.

My grandmother was awfully worried when Grandpa and I first walked through the door. She enveloped me into her arms the second we stepped into the house, wanting to know if I was okay and if I needed anything. Apparently, Grandpa didn't tell her anything about my trips to the Forbidden Forest… and how I was there when Julian was found.

I told him everything when we came back home. He made sure to Apparate a distance from the house when we arrived, so I had the time to talk to him before reaching Lockhart Gardens. His face looked graver than I had ever seen it, and he had wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulders, stopping occasionally to make sure I was okay.

Needless to say, I practically collapsed when I finally saw the familiar safety of my bed, my eyes no longer able to stay open. And, of course, I fell into a horrible nightmare as soon as my lids closed. It was a blend between my mother's suicide and a huge spider eating Julian's face. I woke up screaming and sobbing, and the first to reach my bedroom and hug me tight was Holly. She lay down beside me, gently running her long fingers through the tangled locks of my hair, and she was still there when I woke up the next morning.

* * *

Grandpa asked the Ministry to connect my friends' fireplaces with ours. Rowan was the first to arrive, tumbling out of the fireplace the very next morning in a shower of green sparks. She immediately wrapped her arms around me in a reassuring hug. Next was Penny, appearing right after Rowan, bringing – as she said – a bag full of comforting candy.

We sit down together to have breakfast, where Rowan is delighted to ask Holly all about house elves rights and her thoughts on slavery. Holly doesn't seem bothered by her questions, engaging in a long discussion about magical creatures that are seen as beasts.

"Take Centaurs, for example," Holly says, as Rowan looks on with wide, fascinated eyes. "They are far more intelligent than humans and yet they are categorized as beasts!"

Bill and Charlie arrive just before lunch, laden with containers full of food cooked by Mrs. Weasley.

"She said it's impolite to show up without food," Charlie says.

"I feel like this is an offering or something," Bill adds, taking the containers to the kitchen.

"Here, Athena," Charlie says with a smile. "We brought you these offerings, so your fury doesn't fall upon us."

"Her fury _should_ fall upon you," Rowan says, crossing her arms. "You were the one who yelled at her."

"You yelled at her?" Bill exclaims, slapping his brother round the head.

"Ouch!" Charlie says, flashing me a bashful smile.

Mrs. Weasley's cooking is delicious. Holly seems intrigued in learning her recipe for the casserole and quickly asks the boys for their address so she can write to Mrs. Weasley and ask about her culinary tips and tricks.

"Holly is one of a kind," Bill says when we finish eating.

Tonks and Tulip arrive just after lunch, happily discussing the formula of a new type of Dungbomb that will arrive at Zonko's in February.

"Double the trouble, double the stink," Tonks says, laughing.

The last one to arrive is Barnaby, who strolls in just as we're having our afternoon tea. He shows up wearing his black overcoat, looking dashing as usual.

"Grandma, Grandpa, Holly… this is Barnaby." I see Holly flash me a crooked smile as I introduce him, and my stomach gives the tiniest flutter, almost as if to remind me that, despite everything, I'm still alive.

* * *

My friends don't leave me alone whatsoever – except when I have to go to the bathroom – and even convince me to help them unpack in their designated bedrooms.

Holly prepped the basement for the boys. Our basement was never dusty or scary looking, but it has a bunch of old books and Jacob's things from Sunderland. I watch Charlie study the jukebox while Barnaby puts his suitcase under the bed near the stairs. There are three beds for the boys, but they don't seem terribly concerned about where they'll be sleeping. Instead, they rush to grab their brooms and head out to the garden to fly around the property.

The girls are given the guest bedroom, which is located at the end of the corridor, across from my bedroom. This room boasts two twin trundle beds placed at opposite walls, and Tulip and Tonks have taken the liberty of pulling out the two smaller beds and pushing them together. As I watch, they throw their things atop the combined middle bed, leaving the side beds for Rowan and Penny.

 _I just wish Ben was here too…_

Dinner is fun; we have to have all our meals in the dining room, because it's the only table big enough to fit all eleven of us. Grandpa seems delighted to hear that Penny is a big fan of his, and they spend the entire meal discussing plots and events from his books.

"…and all the symbolism regarding the enchanted orchids!" Penny says, excited.

"You noticed that?" Grandpa smiles. "I thought it was too subtle."

"Just enough," Penny says, her eyes nearly glowing with uncontained enthusiasm.

We all gather around the fireplace after dinner and my grandparents leave us alone; though Holly shows up occasionally with trays full of cookies and tea, and to flash me smirks and amused stares.

"Did you sleep well last night, Athie?" Rowan asks with concern, dunking her cookie inside her teacup.

I sigh. "No, I think it will take a while for me to sleep well again."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," Charlie says, embarrassed.

"It's okay," I tell him. "You're right. This isn't just about me."

"I can't possibly imagine what Julian's parents are going through right now," Penny whispers, hugging her legs.

"And his twin sister…" Tulip says, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace.

"McGonagall came to get her before letting us all know what had happened," Charlie tells us. "Her best friend Bella told me about it the next morning."

We fall into a glum silence, the darkness creeping up again as I think of Nora, nearly forgetting all the warmth of my friends beside me.

"And do you care to tell me _why_ you are hanging out with eleven-year olds, Charles?" I glance up to see Rowan raising her eyebrows at Charlie. "Who is this Bella, and why was she talking to you?"

Charlie doesn't answer; he simply places a smooch on her cheek and drapes an arm around her shoulder. I let out an amused breath and Rowan glances at me from within his embrace and smiles brightly. From the armchair across the room, Barnaby also flashes me a sweet smile.

"Just to lighten up the mood a little bit," Penny says, taking a bunch of envelopes from her pocket, "I made copies for all of us and made them move."

She hands out the envelopes and I open mine to find the most amazing bunch of moving pictures I've even seen. There's Tonks, Tulip, and me laughing and being silly… Charlie, Bill, and me smiling, and a bashful Percy trying to escape from the picture… My heart melts with every single picture, until I reach the last one: the sweetest of them all, where I'm wrapping my arms around Barnaby's neck and he's giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"I love them," I say, sniffing to contain another round of tears.

It's past midnight when we all head to our bedrooms to sleep; or, in my case, not to sleep. I hear the girls' bedroom door snap shut, and I close my own after me, putting on my flannel pajamas and burying myself in the mountain of pillows and blankets that is my bed. A gentle hoot makes me realize that Twilight is watching over me from the perch by the window, and I smile slightly as I close my eyes, glad he's there to look after me… just like he did the first time I entered the forest alone…

I toss and turn, unable to asleep, until the soft squeak of my door creaking open makes me sit up suddenly.

"Barnaby," I whisper, lighting the candle beside my bed. I watch his tall figure looking at me from the doorstep. "What happened?"

He enters my bedroom, closing the door behind him.

 _Oh my God… he's in my bedroom._

"I just came to check on you," he says, and I notice he's wearing a white tank top and green pajama pants. "Did I wake you?"

"No," I say. "Not at all."

He pauses, catching sight of my corkboard full of pictures, and he studies them with a keen smile until his eyes land on the photo of us together. It's hard to say – beneath the dim candlelight – but his mouth seems to draw up into an enthralled smirk. He turns around to face me and walks towards me, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"I'm sorry," he says simply.

"About what?"

"About my… demeanour over the past few weeks."

"Barnaby, I–"

"I've never been in love before," he tells me, and my heart suddenly start to race. "I guess… I just didn't know how to behave myself."

"It's okay," I say. Slowly. Tentatively. "I… I shouldn't have been so rude to you..."

"I wasn't exactly taking it easy." He smirks.

I sigh, drawing up one leg and hugging it, observing how the candlelight makes his eyes glisten in all shades of green. My cheeks begin to feel a little warm when he returns my stare, and I can't help but smile bashfully at him.

For the first time since it happened, there is something on my mind besides thoughts of darkness.

"Do you want to…" he begins, his cheeks growing slightly flushed.

Snog?

Make out?

Roll all over my bed with you?

Yes.

Very much.

Please.

 _Holy cow, Athena. Get your shit together._ Think about Holly's letter...

This is awfully unfair to him.

"Do you want me to stay here?" he asks, and my cheeks burn even more. "We can… talk… until you fall asleep."

I selfishly hope that talk means _kiss_ in his dictionary.

I nod and he crawls into the empty space beside me as I lay back down, placing his head on one of the many spare pillows I like to sleep with. His green eyes look at mine and I feel the corners of my lips trembling with expectation.

"What do you want to talk about?" he says, breaking eye contact only when Twilight hoots a little bit too loudly, flashing Barnaby a menacing stare before flying out the window. "I don't think your owl likes me very much."

"Twilight is just overly protective." I snigger, feeling those awful butterflies when his green eyes return to mine.

You would've thought that these butterflies would have stopped after all the times we kissed…

You would think they would have disappeared after what happened in the forest.

But somehow, _somehow_ …

"Tell me about Liz," I whisper, immediately wanting to kick myself for saying something so stupid.

"Elizabeth?" he says with a frown.

"I thought… I mean, I assumed… that her name was actually Lizard," I say, feeling even more stupid for my moronic assumption.

He laughs softly. "No. People always call her Lizard, because of her thing for magical creatures. So, she ended up using it as her name."

"Sounds a bit harsh," I say. "People can be very mean sometimes."

"I know," he says. "But she's tough. She managed to cure her Puffskein when he drank from the loo. So, I bet she can face pretty much anything."

I laugh. Barnaby's analogies always sound so sweetly out of place that it hurts to not just pull him close and kiss him. Especially with the scent of his spearmint toothpaste intoxicating me…

I hold my breath when he reaches out and cups my burning cheek in his rough palm. I have to tell myself repeatedly to be wise… to be smart… to know better than just to mess around with people's feelings… But then again, I shouldn't just allow boys to enter my bedroom after all hours of the night, and yet here I am.

"Allow me to be your distraction," he says, in an undertone. "Just while I'm here. When we return to Hogwarts, I promise I'll let it all go."

"Barnaby, I don't want to hurt you," I whisper, feeling my heart being squeezed by an invisible hand.

"You're already hurting me," he murmurs, drawing closer.

"But I don't want to be the one to break your heart…"

"I wouldn't mind… having my heart broken by you." His nose is nearly touching mine.

"Don't let me do this to you," I say, my voice trembling.

He bites his bottom lip, staring at me with glistening eyes.

"Please," he says, at last, before pulling me closer and kissing me.

 _It's selfish, isn't it?_

It's selfish, and it's cruel, and I am so ashamed.

But not enough, apparently.

Because I kiss him right back.


	72. Year 4: Chapter 20 - With a Little Help

**A/N:** As usual, a very special shout out to my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's also an incredible writer. Be sure to check out her stories, because they're amazing. We're also participating in a Drarry game, so you'll see me uploading a bunch of Drarry stories. If you like that kind of thing, be sure to check them out. I also wanna thank my wonderful readers, specially **Son of Whitebeard** and **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , who left sweet reviews on my last chapter. Now, let's head to the story, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty –With a Little Help from My Friends**

* * *

"Things are getting excessively dangerous," Grandpa says, when I meet him in his office. He prepares his pipe with his new clove-scented tobacco and leans back in his chair, eyeing me with concern. "A child is dead, Hogwarts is facing another inquiry, and this curse seems to be nowhere near an end."

I sigh. "And I couldn't have imagined I'd suffer the sleepwalking curse too."

"Oh, honey, I don't think it was the curse," he tells me. "You used to sleepwalk when you were little. Whenever you got anxious."

I raise my eyes to look at him, baffled. "I… don't remember that."

"The last time was the night before Jacob went to Hogwarts for the first time." He smiles sadly. "Your parents found you unpacking his trunk in the middle of the night."

I frown, staring down at the newspaper I'm holding. The front page is dedicated to a beautiful picture of the young Julian Lee on the day he found out he was a wizard. I recall how thrilled Jake was… when _he_ found out he was a wizard. But I also remember being very upset, because he'd spend the majority of the year away from me. Little did I know that he'd soon go missing and I wouldn't even be able to see him during the holidays.

I sigh, staring at Julian's picture. It doesn't move, though, but only because Julian and Nora are Muggle-born, and that was the photograph his parents provided the Daily Prophet with.

 **ANOTHER DEATH AT HOGWARTS**

 _It was only forty-four years ago that Hogwarts faced its first investigation regarding a student's death: the mysterious assassination of the Muggle-born witch Myrtle Warren. Though the castle was primarily built to be a safe place, Hogwarts can't seem to maintain the necessary safety to prevent its students from falling into the claws of death, writes Rita Skeeter, Staff Reporter._

 _Young Julian Long, who had just discovered his magical prowess earlier this year, was only eleven years old when his life was brutally taken from him at the very school that had sworn to protect him. He was a proud Ravenclaw, exceptional in Herbology, and the delight of his friends and family. Just like the unfortunate Miss Warren, Julian also came from a Muggle family, who was thrilled to find out about his magical abilities. Julian's twin sister, Nora, discovered inherent magical abilities at the same time, but was unfortunately separated from her brother as a result of the cruel Sorting Ceremony and placed in Gryffindor. Little did she know, she would never share a moment under the same roof with her brother again._

 _The boy, just as many before him, fell victim to a sleepwalking curse – a consequence of the dreadful Cursed Vaults that continue to plague Hogwarts. He was found in the Forbidden Forest by the Potions Master, Severus Snape, who immediately rushed after the boy when he spotted him entering the woods._

" _It was too late for the boy, unfortunately," the Potions Master said in an emotional interview. "Acromantula poison is extremely deadly."_

 _The Wizarding School is now facing an inquiry led by the Department of Magical Education and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures._

" _There are dangerous creatures living in that forest and it's the school's responsibility to keep the students safe and away from that place," says Zelig Drach, the Director of the Department of Magical Education._

 _Julian's broken-hearted family is determined to hold someone accountable for his brutal death. "They hired a Curse-Breaker to stop this, but she isn't doing anything," Nora Long told us, amidst sobs that nearly rendered her speechless. "She allowed my brother to die!"_

 _According to anonymous sources, the famous Curse-Breaker in question – also an employee of Gringotts Wizarding Bank – Patricia Rakepick, was hired by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore to put an end to the threat of the Cursed Vaults. However, the skilled witch doesn't seem to be taking her job with the seriousness required for a situation so grave. In fact, sources tell us that Rakepick spends her time engaging in mindless tasks in order to find an apprentice. Both Patricia Rakepick and Albus Dumbledore declined to comment on the ongoing situation._

 _It seems that all we can do now is wait to see where the investigation will lead us. Will the mighty Patricia Rakepick lose her reputation as the world's finest Curse-Breaker? And will Albus Dumbledore finally be replaced by a less scatterbrained Headmaster? Only time will be able to tell; though no time in the world will be able to soothe the Long family's heartache._

"I wonder what the school will do about this," I mumble with a sigh, thinking about Rita Skeeter's flourished words.

"They'll do what they always do," Grandpa says darkly. "They'll hush up the case."

"How did Myrtle Warren die?" I ask, running my fingers over her name.

"No one knows." He shrugs. "She was found dead in the girls' lavatory, and it was impossible to say what had killed her. They accused the scariest student in the castle, but no one was ever able to prove anything."

"In the girls' bathroom… You don't mean to tell me that Myrtle Warren is _Moaning Myrtle_!" I cry, shocked.

"Indeed," he says, blowing spirals of smoke into the air. "She was just a year above your grandmother and me. Another Ravenclaw."

"Feels like someone's got it out for Ravenclaw house, doesn't it?" I say uncomfortably.

Grandpa gives me sad smile. "I promise you, no one is out there determined to pick off Ravenclaws."

I sigh. "What was she like?"

"Ah," he says, letting out a small laugh. "Extremely annoying. Not that it justifies her being killed, of course. But she was an overall unpleasant person. Excessively dramatic… a bit arrogant…"

"And who was charged for her murder?" I ask.

"Well, he was never really charged," Grandpa says. "There was no proof, you see. No motive. He swore he didn't do it. But they expelled him for raising deadly animals inside the castle, just in case."

"Grandpa, stop playing the pronoun game," I say. " _Who_ are you talking about?"

"Oh, dear. Hagrid, of course."

* * *

I tell my friends everything about my new discoveries when I join them in a tireless hunt for a loose gnome. My grandparents usually don't get annoyed by the gnomes around the property, mainly because there's a very determined house elf that keeps them running.

"Hagrid tried raising an Acromantula inside the castle?" Rowan shrieks.

"Wicked!" Barnaby and Charlie say in unison.

"That's not cool!" Rowan says. "Someone could've been killed! Someone _was_ killed!"

"What if Hagrid released the spider in the Forbidden Forest?" Penny suggests, collapsing tiredly on the grass. "Argh, I'm through with that gnome!"

"Acromantulas don't have a very long lifespan," Charlie says.

"It could be its offspring," Barnaby suggests.

"Hagrid could actually be the reason why there are giant spiders living in the forest…" Bill says.

"Yeah, but that's not the point!" I say, sitting down next to Penny. I refuse to let them blame Rubeus. I may not know what happened with Myrtle, but everything that I've ever known about Rubeus deems him incompatible with murder. I refuse to believe he was responsible. _Is_ responsible. "There was no proof that Myrtle was killed by an Acromantula. And we all know the forest is dangerous, and we're not allowed in. And if it hadn't been an Acromantula, it would've been something else. The actual problem is the Vaults..."

"Athena's right," Tulip says. "And Rakepick's only making things worse."

"I wonder what's going to happen to her now, with that Daily Prophet article," Tonks says, grabbing one of Grandma's magical dandelions and blowing it into the wind.

"Probably nothing," I grumble, watching its seeds fly away. They will take root in the sodden ground. Just like all my doubts.

* * *

Spending the days with my friends beside me proves to be the greatest therapy in the entire world. Even though the menacing Vaults continue to haunt me, they don't allow me much time by myself to dwell on them.

Playing Quidditch with fruit, having fun with Wizard's Chess, and dancing to Grandpa's enchanted phonograph (which only plays the best selection of my brother's vinyl) are just a few of the things we use to entertain ourselves.

"Now shake it all, baby," Bill sings, dancing around the basement with a very amused Penny. "Twist and shout!"

I giggle, sitting beside Barnaby on his bed and eating my way through a stack of Holly's freshly baked sugar cookies. He has his arm wrapped around me, but no one seems to notice our odd intimacy. Maybe it's just because everyone else is already so intimate, and it doesn't seem outside the norm. But they also don't seem to notice that Barnaby sneaks out of the basement every single night, only to quietly find his way into my bedroom…

"Your lips are so soft," he says, many hours later, holding me tightly against his chest.

I must admit things have evolved pretty fast between us; not in a romantic way, but in a we're-ending-up-half-naked-almost-every-night kind of way. Not that I'm not completely and one hundred percent aware that we're far too young for this, but we just can't help it. We start snogging and then things get so freaking hot that before I notice, he's already shirtless.

Not that I'm complaining, of course.

"Barnaby," I whisper, in between his lips, "this is going a little too far…"

"Sorry," he says, putting his tank top back on.

But it doesn't change much, because I can – and do – still slip my hands beneath his shirt and caress his naked skin.

 _But_ , it does make me feel slightly less sinful.

Holly keeps flashing me amused smirks when she sees me around the house and winking at me randomly while we're eating, and it leaves me wondering if she knows what we've been doing. I don't know how well house elves can hear, and I wonder if she can hear the basement door creaking open every single night, or the discrete moans from inside my locked bedroom.

Oh, Merlin, I wish I was already seventeen so that I could use a Silencing Charm…

Twilight, on the other hand, has been avoiding my room ever since Barnaby first stepped foot inside it. Among other things I don't know, I wonder how the hell owl jealousy works. Barnaby doesn't seem to be getting any affection from Twilight, even after days of offering tasty owl treats. Twilight simply looks at him with distaste and flies away.

* * *

"Your friend Penny is an absolute delight," Grandpa says, when I meet him in the kitchen on the morning of December 19th. "I'm thinking of naming my next book's protagonist after her."

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled," I say, grabbing a muffin from the tray Holly is offering.

"Tell me if you can taste the ginger," she says as I take a bite of the deliciously soft muffin.

"Yeah," I say, with my mouth full. "It's amazing."

"Are you guys talking about Penny?" Grandma says, entering the room. "She's been helping me with my potion orders. Isn't she the sweetest?"

I giggle, telling myself I won't be like Twilight and I won't be jealous of Penny.

"Take these to your friends," Holly says, handing me the tray.

I find them all in the basement, listening to Queen's _You're My Best Friend_ and, impressively, doing homework.

"How bookish you all are," I say, squeezing the tray into an empty space on the coffee table that's nearly overloaded with books and rolls of parchment.

"It was Rowan's idea," Charlie says, sounding annoyed.

"You mean it was Rowan's command," Bill says, dipping his quill inside the inkpot as he smirks in amusement.

"I've already done all of my essays," I tell them, sitting down next to Barnaby and watching him work on a drawing of a Niffler. He is making notes about its abilities and physical attributes in the blank spaces of the parchment. "Wow, that's an amazing drawing!"

"Thanks," he says, flashing me a smirk.

"How could you possibly have already finished all your homework?" Rowan says, wide-eyed, reaching for her Ancient Runes book.

"I never said I was human." I shrug, thinking about all the times Professor Snape and I finished the potions lessons early and he allowed me to study while he graded the students' elixirs. "Penny, I think my grandparents are considering adopting you."

She frowns. "Why?"

"Apparently they like you more than they like me," I say, grinning.

Barnaby reaches out to grab a muffin and I can't help but stare at his perfectly smooth neck… and how I spent the previous night kissing it… and how he smells like a delicious blend of lemon and grapefruit, and clean laundry, and a pinch of sandalwood…

 _Calm down, Athena!_

I watch them finish their essays, thinking about how – despite all the tragic events that have happened in my life – blessed I am for having them beside me. I rest my head against the wall, thinking back to when I first got my Hogwarts letter. I was so sure that no one in the castle would ever want to talk to me at all…

My eyes meet Rowan's and she smiles at me.

It all began with her… with her lovely presence and loyal friendship.

Nothing after that matters, does it? Not the pain. Not the suffering.

Because I have them.

I'm truly blessed.

* * *

I thought they wouldn't disturb me anymore.

The nightmares.

My friends have been keeping my mind busy, making me so incredibly tired that I've been falling asleep and landing directly into dreamless land. And, of course, all the dopamine, oxytocin, and adrenaline released during my snogging sessions with Barnaby have also helped dull what I saw in the Forbidden Forest.

But not tonight.

Tonight, my dreams come back to haunt me, as gory and frightening as ever.

At first, I think it's going to be a good dream; I see Jake playing his guitar… but then the cursed ice starts to grow all over him and the scene changes to the same dream I've had with Ben, the one where he froze until he became a statue. The vision shifts again, taking me back to Sunderland where I found my lifeless mum… and then I'm standing before my dad as he sends me away to Plymouth. And, last but not least, there's Julian. I find myself back in the forest, but Professor Snape isn't with me. Instead, I see a myriad of huge spiders feeding on Julian's bleeding flesh.

I wake up gasping, with my heart beating painfully against my ribcage. Though I don't wake up screaming, all I seem to want to do is howl. In pain. In sadness. In despair. I grab a pillow roughly, hiding my face in the fabric, gasping so hard that I think I might dissolve into tears.

My sobbing is intense, but quiet. No one knows what's going on in the dead of night. I think of my sweet friends, peacefully sleeping. How many times have I endangered their lives?

Julian's face comes to mind once again, and I begin, unwittingly, to think of what I'd have done, had I found any of my friends in the forest… being devoured by slugs and other bloodthirsty creatures.

 _No._

I could not bear it.

I cannot fall asleep again. I lay silently in my bed, staring vaguely at the ceiling as tears rolls down my face, wondering when things will begin to be all right again. When will things be happy… and free of death…. and curses?

* * *

"You look like shit," Rowan says when I join my friends for breakfast.

I sigh. "Thanks."

"Nightmares again?" she asks. "I thought they stopped."

"They'll never stop," I say, making myself a cup of hot tea.

She looks at me with concern, running her fingers gently through my messy hair.

"Morning, everyone," Grandma says brightly, entering the dining room. "Athena, darling, what happened to you?"

"I'm fine," I say, but she places the back of her hand on my forehead, then turns to Penny.

"Penny, dear, could you help me brew some Sleeping Draught this afternoon? Athena, my love, you need to get some sleep."

"I'm fine," I repeat, even though I know she's right.

"Good morning!" Grandpa says, entering the room. "Athena, honey, what ha–"

"She's fine, Sebastian," Grandma says, noticing my dismayed expression. Grandpa nods, holding my gaze for a moment, then glances at my friends.

"Well, I've just sent letters to all your parents," he says to the room at large. "I know the majority of you are going back home for Christmas, but you're all very much welcome to spend the New Year with us in Bristol."

"PARTY!" Tonks exclaims, clapping excitedly.

I giggle.

"And, my dear," Grandpa says, looking at me, "Mrs. Weasley wrote us, saying she'd love to have you and Rowan over for Christmas."

"But, Grandpa, what about our family's Christ–"

He raises his hand to silence me. "We already talked about it." He smiles sweetly at Grandma.

"We think it would be better for you to spend Christmas away from our… whimsical… family," Grandma says with an amused smile.

I smile too, happy that I won't have to see Aunt Anise and Gil during Christmas – even though I'll have to see them during the New Year party – but Rowan seems to be completely distressed, looking at me with wide eyes.

"Oh my God," she says, locking us in my bedroom right after breakfast. "I'm going to meet Charlie's parents!"

"Row, you've already met his parents," I say. "In the hospital wing. Remember?"

"Yeah, but this time it's _official_ ," she moans. "I'll be having dinner with his family! I'll meet the rest of his siblings! Oh Lord, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"C'mon," I say. "Don't be such a drama queen."

"I'm going to die," she cries, collapsing on my bed and breathing loudly, her dark eyes staring at the ceiling with an expression of complete horror.

* * *

"Hey," Barnaby says that night, when I'm already in bed, reading _The Secret Garden_.

"Hey," I say simply, marking my page and putting the book aside.

He closes the door behind him, turning the key to lock it. Only this time, he doesn't come straight to my arms; he sits next to me beneath the covers and looks at me with concern.

"I'm worried about you," he says.

"I'm fine," I lie.

"I'm going home tomorrow morning," he says. "But I'll see you again on the 31st."

I nod.

"I promise I'll let this go," he tells me. "This feeling. When we're back in school."

He looks at the bottle of Sleeping Draught on my nightstand, next to my book.

"I didn't take it yet," I say, and he smirks.

"I'm sorry for annoying you over the past weeks," he says.

"You didn't. It was… a pleasure. To say the least."

"Things don't ever seem to get easy for us, do they?" he says with a sad smile.

I sigh. "No. But everything will be all right eventually. I hope."

"I wonder if I'll ever lo – adore… someone as much as I… adore you," he says.

"You will," I say, feeling my cheeks burning. "And when that day comes, you won't even remember that you once had feelings for me."

He stops for a while and looks down at his hands, turning the skull ring he wears around on his finger, looking a bit frustrated. I can't help but hate myself when he raises his eyes, staring at me with those glistening emeralds. He doesn't look at all like the same boy who used to threaten me and follow Merula around like a bodyguard.

I think about what Holly said: that people can change. Though he came from a broken home, with parents who were loyal to You-Know-Who, and grew up with expectations of becoming strong and powerful, he managed to become the gentlest person I know. It almost feels strange that he can wear such blissful smiles after losing his dad and growing up wanting to be the toughest man in the world. Now, he can look at me with lovelorn eyes, just because I'm messed up enough to break his heart.

How can he care more about this feeling than anything else?

I stare at him, wondering if I'll ever be like this; _so bewitched by love that nothing else matters…_

I kneel on my bed, crawling to him and sitting on his lap, so we're face to face. He wraps his arms around me, staring at me intensely, flashing me a sad smile.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, touching his nose with mine, allowing the amazing scent of him to completely overwhelm me.

"It's like you said," he says, his lips touching mine with every word. "It's not _never_ … it's just not… right now."

But I know, even then… it _is_ right now, not later… isn't it? Because if it was simply "not right now," then I'd know that feeling too. That feeling that Barnaby has in spades, and I can't seem to muster up at all.

But I will take these moments, each one driving a wedge deeper and deeper into Barnaby's heart. Because I'm as selfish as they fucking come.

19


	73. Year 4: Chapter 21 - Tick Tock

**A/N:** Hi, guys! How are you doing? Firstly, I wanna send a huge shout out to my magnificent _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ). She's also a wonderful writer, so be sure to check out her stories. Also, I wanna thank **Poppy** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **serendipitymadness** (who's also writing a HM story, so go check it out!) and **SKKKAgentCates** for the lovely reviews. Lastly, I wanna thank all the new followers and readers. Thank you so, so much! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-One – Tick Tock**

* * *

The Sleeping Draught is the best thing in the world. Though I don't want to get addicted to it, it surely makes me feel better — diving into dreamless nights of sleep, with Rowan by my side.

She left the guest room when everyone else went home, bringing her things back into my bedroom, along with the pillow Charlie slept on while he was here.

"Smells like grass and honeysuckle," she says wistfully, covering her face with the pillow.

I look at her, wishing I could tell her about Barnaby, but the words get lost inside me. The basement looks awfully empty and boring now that they're gone, and the beds have disappeared. I wish I could've been faster and smuggled Barnaby's pillow into my room as well, but it was already gone when I got there.

On December 22nd, we visit Diagon Alley to buy Christmas presents, and a magical clock particularly enchants me. It can be personalized to display as many golden hands as possible, depending on how many people live in the household. The hands point to different whereabouts, like school, work, hospital, and even mortal peril.

Rowan annoys me to buy a new outfit, though I don't think Charlie's parents would ever dislike her for her sense of style.

"I can't just show up in my Weasley jumper!" she says.

"I think they'd love if you showed up in your Weasley jumper," I tell her. "Row, you're smart, beautiful, and kind. You shouldn't worry so much about your clothes."

"But Andre says the clothes make the wizard," she moans.

"Andre has been hit by Bludgers too many times," I say, pulling her to Flourish & Blotts.

After all the shopping, I convince her to have some ice cream with me at Florean Fortescue's. She buys the wine sorbet, which promises to warm you from the inside out.

"I'd much rather be making out with Charlie right now," she says.

"I bet," I say with a smirk, eating my mint chocolate chip sundae. It tastes just like Barnaby's lips, and it brings a hurtful feeling to my heart.

We return to Lockhart Gardens laden with shopping bags, enjoying the first snowflakes as they fall from the wintry skies. I sit with Rowan in front of the fireplace, eating ginger cookies with tea, and, for the briefest moment, I actually want to tell her about Barnaby.

But I can't.

For some odd reason, everything I want to say falls to pieces in my throat and I find myself keeping another secret from my best friend.

How did this happen? When did I become such a secretive person? And if this who I really am inside, why am I condemning Ben for doing the same thing?

Later that night, after a hot tea and some Sleeping Draught, I fall asleep with Rowan next to me, lulled by the sound of her peaceful breathing. I lean my head against hers, falling into a sweet sleep that smells of her — of ink, parchment, and wood.

* * *

"For crying out loud, Rowan, wear the goddamn Weasley jumper!" I say, exasperated, when I enter my bedroom after a particularly relaxing shower, and find all her clothes spread over my bed.

"But—"

"No buts!" I interrupt, putting on a white turtleneck blouse and the new Ravenclaw sweater Grandma knitted for me. "I love you, and they're going to love you too."

She sighs, throwing on a long-sleeved blouse, jeans, and the blue Weasley sweater.

"Can I at least borrow your hoop earrings?" she asks, brushing her hair until it gets wonderfully smooth.

"Sure," I say, tucking my tiger's eye necklace inside my sweater. For some reason, I don't like it to be visible. This is Holly's protection, after all. "Row… did… did Charlie already say he loves you?"

She stares at me with wide eyes.

"No," she gasps. "Why? _Should he?_ "

"No," I say. "I mean… I don't know. I was just curious."

Rowan moans, throwing herself onto my bed and covering her face with the book I gave her for Christmas: _The Beginner's Guide to Mermish_.

"C'mon," I say. "Time to go."

"Just let me spray on some more perfume."

"You're wearing enough," I say. "You'll smell like a flower bomb."

"What's the issue with flower bombs?"

"The issue is when they intoxicate you," I say. "Let's go."

Grandpa and Grandma are waiting for us in the living room, already holding a box full of Floo Powder. I had suggested that we fly to Ottery St. Catchpole, but Rowan said it would ruin her hair. I'm not quite sure how a bunch of dust and magical powder is any better, but given the fact that's she's super nervous, I reckon it's best not to contradict her.

"Have a lovely night, girls," Grandma says.

I step into the fireplace first, because Rowan says she doesn't want to be the first to arrive at Charlie's house. It's best – according to her – if I warm it up first… whatever that means.

"The Burrow," I enunciate, as green flames and dust surround me. I watch a blurry panorama of fireplaces pass by like a film playing at super speed before my eyes, until I finally slow down to step out of a large fireplace in a very interesting living room.

I quickly get out of the way before Rowan smashes into me as Mrs. Weasleys hurries to greet me, looking incredibly chuffed.

"Athena, dear!" she says, fanning the dust from my clothes. "Gingerbread?"

"Oh," I say. "Thank you. Holly sent a bunch of custard tarts. Rowan is bringing them."

"I'd love to have a house elf too," she says, and just as I'm about to say that we don't _have_ Holly, Rowan finally tumbles out from the fireplace, holding a big container of tarts.

"Oh, my darling!" Mrs. Weasley cries.

And then she does something that neither Rowan nor I are expecting.

She pulls Rowan in for a tight and emotional hug.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you," Mrs. Weasley says, and I see Rowan flash me a completely surprised look.

"Mum, let the girl breathe," Bill says, entering the living room. "Nice jumper, Rowan."

"Hmmm… thanks," she says, still being squeezed by Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" Charlie gasps, hurrying in right after Bill, his cheeks flushed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mrs. Weasley says, holding Rowan's face in between her hands and flashing her a happy smile. "I'm so glad to have you here, dear."

Rowan doesn't even have time to say anything, because Mrs. Weasley quickly grabs the container from her hands and hurries to the kitchen.

"Yeah, Charlie." Bill smirks. "Apparently, Mum likes your girlfriend."

Charlie blushes even more, his ears turning red, and while he's busy blending in with the burgundy carpet, Bill offers to give us a tour.

Their house is remarkably interesting; from the inside it looks just like a country house, with scattered vases full of herbs, couches that do not match – but somehow compose a very cosy atmosphere, walls splashed with photographs of every Weasley in existence, and a never ending staircase that just goes up and up _and up_.

From outside, covered in a thick layer of glistening snow, the house looks like a crooked Christmas pudding. It has somewhere between four and five stories, several chimneys, and a variety of garden gnomes jumping among the snowy bushes. There's also a big shed where Mr. Weasley keeps all his Muggle things – items he finds fascinating. According to Bill, he's been working on an old blue Ford Anglia. And besides all that, I can also hear the timid sounds of pigs and chickens, all hiding from the cold.

"Your house is amazing, guys," I say. But when I turn around, I notice I'm only talking to Bill. "Where are Row and Charlie?"

"Probably hiding somewhere… snogging." He shrugs, then his mouth drops open, as if he's only just realized something. "Y'ALL BETTER NOT BE ON MY BED!"

Charlie sticks his head out from a fourth floor window and flashes us a guilty smile. I snicker.

"Come on," Bill says, wrapping his arm around my neck. "Let's go inside."

The house already smells divine; I offer to help, but Mrs. Weasley quickly chivvies me from the kitchen, telling she's got everything under control. As I'm climbing the stairs to meet the other kids, I hear her mumble something that sounds suspiciously like, "What a sweet girl my boy found." I sincerely hope she's talking about Rowan and Charlie, and not about Bill and me.

Bill and Charlie share a bedroom; Charlie's side is full of dragon posters and drawings, while Bill's side is cleaner, with a stack of books on the shelf next to his bed. Across from their room is Percy and Ron's bedroom. Percy waves at me when Bill opens the door and tells them to greet me, and Ron, who's half my age, glances up at me with wide eyes and doesn't say anything.

"Their room is just under the attic," Bill tells me. "There's a ghoul living there. Very annoying, really."

The twins' bedroom is one level below. Fred and George are just nine years old, but they already seem to be even more skilled pranksters than Tonks and Tulip. When Bill knocks and opens the door, they quickly shove something under one of the beds and then stare at us with angelic faces. I blink at them and they smirk at each other.

Yeah.

Like I don't know what a pair of troublemakers look like.

The only one to have a bedroom to herself is Ginny, the only girl. She's a year younger than Ron and looks absolutely darling with her rounded, freckled face and braided ginger pigtails.

"Your siblings are adorable," I tell Bill, and he takes me back to the living room, where there's an actual fire burning in the fireplace. We settle around it as Mrs. Weasley brings in a tray of cookies and tea. "Thank you."

My eyes meet two pairs of brownish eyes, staring at me from behind the stairs' balusters. The twins exchange glances and seemingly decide to join us, because they simultaneously stand up and make their way toward us, sitting side by side on the big armchair.

"Hi," they say in unison.

"Hi," I answer, wondering what they're up to.

For some reason, I remember the time when Tonks and Tulip added Frog Spawn Soap to Rita Skeeter's tea. I just hope they're not thinking of doing something like that to me.

"I'm Gred," one of them says.

"And I'm Forge," the other says.

I look at Bill, who simply shrugs and flashes me an amused smile.

"Is it true you entered the Forbidden Forest?" Fred says, and I mentally note that he has a small mole right under his bottom lip, while George doesn't.

"Twice?" George adds.

"Jeez, Bill, you're presenting me as an awful example to your brothers," I say.

"I didn't say anything," he says.

"Yeah, Charlie told us everything," Fred continues. "Did you get in detention yet?"

"Did you find any secret passages?"

"Did Charlie at least mention that I'm a straight O student?" I ask.

"Yeah," Fred says. "But that sounds really boring."

"Dinner's ready, everyone," Mrs. Weasley says, sticking her head out of the kitchen and rubbing her hands on her apron.

We follow her to the kitchen, where she's enchanted the kitchen table to expand so it can fit the eleven of us. Rowan finally decides to show up, patting her hair into place, followed by a very satisfied looking Charlie. Bill and I flash them disapproving stares, but they don't seem to notice.

Mrs. Weasley places a tray with Holly's tarts on a raised stand in the middle of the table, right next to a huge chocolate pie and a platter of small fruit cakes. The rest of the table is covered by an insane amount of food: herb-crusted turkey legs, bright yellow rice, stuffed mushrooms, gravy, black pudding, stuffing, and a variety of other things that my mind can't even process.

Unlike a religious Muggle family (like Nana and Papa), we don't say prayers before eating. Mr. Weasley simply thanks Rowan and me for our presence, and we begin eating. I'm instantly in awe of the stuffed mushrooms, stuffing several in my mouth with such enthusiasm that I barely notice Mrs. Weasley staring at me with amusement.

"Athena is a mushroom addict," Bill offers in explanation.

"Bill!" I complain, and he giggles.

"Don't you worry, dear," Mrs. Weasley says kindly. "I rarely listen to what they have to say anyway."

"Mum!" Charlie complains, his face covered in crumbs.

"You study with three of my boys, Rowan," Mrs. Weasley says. "You probably know what I mean."

Rowan flashes Charlie a secretive smile and I glance at them in amusement, thinking about the time when Rowan was hopelessly in love with Bill.

Life can be very odd sometimes.

After we finish eating, we all sit together in the living room. Their Christmas tree is beautifully decorated and makes the house smells of pine needles and wintertime. Mrs. Weasley places a tray with gingerbread on the coffee table, and everyone begins to open presents.

In just a few moments, the entire family is wearing matching jumpers bearing their initials. It's incredibly adorable. Fred and George switch theirs, and no one seems to notice.

Rowan is exultant with her magenta jumper, and her mouth opens in surprise when Charlie hands her another gift. She opens it happily to find a gorgeous handmade wooden sculpture. At first glance, it looks like it's just a tree, but sculpted underneath it, curled around the bark, is a beautifully detailed dragon.

"Oh my," she says, looking truly moved. "Charlie…"

"Did you like it?" he asks, blushing.

"Oh, my sweetie, I love it!" she says, holding his face in between her hands and placing a smooch on his lips.

Mrs. Weasley stares at them with an enchanted expression and I'm obliged to let out a discrete giggle.

"One more present left," Mr. Weasley says, grabbing the big and heavy box under the tree.

"That one's from me," I say, warm and content in my own Weasley jumper – midnight blue with two crossed brooms on the back. "It's for all of you."

I watch Mr. Weasley open the box to reveal the gorgeous clock I had spotted earlier while shopping with Rowan. He looks it over, completely mesmerized, and even Mrs. Weasley stops gazing at Rowan and Charlie to take a closer look.

"It's incredible, Athena," she says. "Thank you so much, dear."

"Oh, but I think it will be a problem," Mr. Weasley says. "Fred and George will always be pointing to mortal peril."

The twins look at each other devilishly and grin.

"Stop it, Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley says. "It's a lovely gift, Athena."

The clock is already set and ticking on the wall when the snow begins to fall heavily outside the window. I'm sitting with Bill, playing Wizard's Chess, while Rowan and Charlie are making out on the sofa.

"Get a room," Bill says, taking a sip of the tea Mrs. Weasley just brought for us.

"Your mum doesn't care that they're practically eating each other's faces?" I ask him.

"Nah," he says. "She's delighted to have a daughter-in-law."

Bill and I finish the match, and it takes a finger-flick on Charlie's ear to make him stop kissing Rowan.

"Ouch," he says, looking at his older brother with an annoyed expression. "What do you want?"

"Rowan and I have to go home," I say, shrugging.

"Really?" she asks, looking at me with puppy eyes.

"Come on," I say, pulling her. "It's not like you don't study and live in the same place."

She giggles, placing one last kiss on his lips before following me to the fireplace.

"Thank you so much for inviting us, Mrs. Weasley," I say, giving her a hug.

"It was a delight having you, dear," she says. "And Rowan, honey, you're welcome to visit whenever you'd like."

It takes almost five minutes for Mrs. Weasley to finally let go of Rowan. I watch Charlie getting more and more embarrassed about it, nervously running his fingers through his ginger hair, until his mum steps aside long enough for him to kiss Rowan goodbye. Dragging her into the fireplace that sends us safely back to Lockhart Gardens is even harder.

My grandparents are already asleep, so they don't notice a waltzing Rowan gliding across the house, cloaked in whispers and sighs. She throws herself onto my bed, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling. I sit at my desk, carefully undoing my braid, and I hear her start to hum. It's almost inaudible, just a slight sound, but I can quite swear that it's a wedding march.

 _Merlin..._

* * *

The happy atmosphere outside Aunt Anise's house is so thick when we get there for the New Year party, that it practically chokes us on the way in. The sky is dotted with thousands of tiny stars, and the waning moon is barely visible. There are countless tables arranged across the flawless lawn, and my Aunt's house elf is running between the guests, serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

"Every year you invite more and more people," Aunt Anise complains to Grandma by way of greeting as she approaches her next to a fancy spread of savoury dishes.

"You speak as if I'm not helping to pay for the extra costs," Grandma says, turning to her with a half-filled plate in hand. " _Honestly_ , Anise."

"Yes, but _why_ does Athena need all her little friends here?"

"You know perfectly well why," Grandma says sharply, lowering her voice. "She needs their support."

I can still hear her just fine.

"Oh, because of the dead kid?" Aunt Anise sighs dramatically. "Come on. It's not like she even knew him."

"He was a Ravenclaw as well." Grandma looks at Aunt Anise with something akin to disbelief. "And she hardly needs a reason to want her friends around."

I remain silent, sighing, with my back resting against the pillars of the front porch. The pillar is so ridiculously huge and thick that they can't see me, and I feel thankful for that.

The cold wind makes me shiver, and I rub my arms to warm them up a little bit, but it doesn't help. My mind is abruptly overcome with a sudden image of Julian, and it makes me feel even colder. Though things seem to get easier and happier when I'm with my friends, I can't help but still feel lost and broken when I'm alone.

I think of my mum as I blankly stare at a vase of hyacinths on the windowsill, everything about their scent reminding me of her. Even though the garden is filled with cheerful conversations and sparkling wine, I can't help but feel a sting of pain as I think that there's another year lying ahead… that I'll spend without her.

What's changing, really, with the turning of the clock?

Time is passing, but things are not becoming easier.

 _Will they ever?_

I close my eyes, my mind wandering to places I wish to never revisit, and my heart shatters when I realize that 1988 will be a year that Nora will spend without her twin brother; a year that her parents will spend without their son.

Are they waiting for the turning of the clock with glasses too? And if they are, are those glasses filled for new beginnings, or to drown out the endings?

Even with Jacob's absence hanging over me, never, in all these years, have I so desperately wanted for the Cursed Vaults to vanish. Such threats can't keep lurking within the shadows of the castle, jeopardizing friends, families, and hearts. Even though it scares me, I _must_ put an end to this.

"Hey."

Barnaby's voice startles me, and I jump slightly as he approaches me, holding a bottle of Butterbeer. "I was wondering where you were hiding."

"Sorry," I say, clasping my hands behind my back.

"You look mesmerizing tonight," he says with a smirk, and I find myself blushing. "I'm sorry. I know I said I'd give you some space after tonight."

The house elf abruptly appears beside us, noticing that Barnaby has finished his Butterbeer. He grabs the empty bottle and vanishes rapidly.

"Thanks," Barnaby says, but the house elf is long gone.

He seems a little awkward now that he has both of his hands free, and I bite my lip when I think that tomorrow this will all just be a memory. His bright green eyes make me feel slightly insecure. He rests his palms on the pillar behind me, locking me in between his arms, and I inhale sharply. The scene is so familiar, just like the countless other times that he's pushed me against some random wall and held me in place with those mesmerizing eyes. I hold his gaze now, his eyes pure spark.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asks, and the fresh smell of him makes me numb.

 _Yes._ _This is for the best_ , I tell myself, thinking about the woeful year that is to come. I don't want to be his first heartbreak.

He waits patiently for my answer, and I notice that there's a subtle smirk on his lips, which makes my heart beat faster. I swallow hard, noticing how the corners of his lips are naturally curled upwards, like he's permanently amused. Silently, I reach out, tracing his square jawline with my fingertips. I feel him shiver and he smiles timidly.

I wonder, fleetingly, whether it's already much too late. For all that. For everything.

And I know I'll have to let it all go – we're on borrowed time, after all – but there's no reason not to enjoy myself tonight. At least the sweetness of his lips will transport me to another place – a place where troubled thoughts don't haunt me nearly as much.

A selfish thought.

It makes me feel terrible, because it sounds, even to myself, like I'm only using him… but it soothes me to think that those green eyes will never really know how I feel.

I allow myself to get lot inside the depth of those emeralds, and my lips curl in a bashful smile.

I've never pretended to be anything but what I am, after all. I've never been dishonest.

"Let's seize the night," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and rising on my tiptoes. "Until the stroke of midnight."

"All right, Cinderella." He smirks. "Will you still be my friend when you turn back into a pumpkin?"

I smile. "I'm pretty sure that's not how the story goes," I say, and he flashes me a confused stare. "But yes. I promise we'll still be friends."

He smiles, making my heart beat faster. His arms close tightly around my waist, and I close my eyes before his lips touch mine. It's a divine sensation, and I cringe inwardly at the thought that I only managed to spend two months with those deliciously soft lips before everything collapsed.

What has my life become?


	74. Year 4: Chapter 22 - Eavesdropping

**A/N:** Hi, guys! How are you? Firstly, I wanna send a special shout out to my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's also an incredible writer and is finishing an awesome story called **Trading Places** , so be sure to check it out! Also, I wanna thank **James018** , **Poppy** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **Sonny Daniels** and **serendipitymadness** (who's also writing a Hogwarts Mystery story, so look for **Mysteries of Hogwarts – Year 1** ). To finish, I wanna thank all the new readers and followers. Thank you for all the love and support. You guys are incredible. Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Two – Eavesdropping**

* * *

If someone told me that the sun had exploded and thus left the world shrouded in darkness, I would have believed it.

Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the mournful atmosphere that was hovering over the castle like a dark fog among haunted trees. The January air was colder than usual and even the white intensity of the snow seemed to be growing duller as sorrowful blue shadows loomed across it.

I was surprised to see Nora Long on the train. She sat with her group of friends, still looking rather sad but managing a smile every now and then. Bill stopped by our compartment and told us that Nora's parents tried to transfer her to Beauxbatons, but they weren't accepting foreign students.

"They even considered ending her magical education," he told us, worried. "She wanted to come back. Apparently, she said that's what her brother would've wanted. Her parents didn't want to contradict her after what she's been through over the holidays, so they let her come back..."

I walk past her on the first day back, as she's heading to Gryffindor Tower with her friends. Nothing in her rounded face betrays her feelings, but I'm sure she's drowning in pain. I almost reach out and stop her, if only to tell her that everything will be all right, but my hand freezes before it moves an inch, falling limply at my side. Her face stays on my mind all night, and the cold nightmares return as soon as my head touches my pillow.

I start to wonder if I will relive it all again and again… for the rest of my life.

Monday passes like a dream; everything seems to be foggy and melancholic, and even the cheerful song chosen by Professor Flitwick to lift out spirits for the new year makes everything seem like a tasteless joke. I float from classes to an exhausting Quidditch practice, until the day finally ends and it's time to go back to Ravenclaw Tower.

I allow my friends to walk in front of me, watching the clouds draped across the midnight sky, as we walk back from our Astronomy class. Rowan is explaining to Emma about Uranus's moons, so inspired with her momentary role as teacher that she doesn't notice that I've drifted behind, walking slowly in their wake.

They turn a corner and I stop walking entirely, listening to their footsteps fading into the distance as I rest my back against a tapestry. My breathing turns into smoke before my eyes, and I swallow hard, thinking of all the events that have unfolded ever since I stepped foot in this castle.

How many of them have been my fault?

 _How many?_

Perhaps Merula's been right all along. Perhaps I _am_ a disgrace to this place, and my cursed life is the reason for all these tragedies. But then again, maybe it's presumptuous to assume that I play a relevant role in all of this. Maybe this place has always been cursed… these horrors lying in wait.

"Miss Lockhart." A sharp voice makes me turn my head abruptly, my heart beating anxiously, but the sight of his familiar dark eyes makes me exhale in relief. Not too much relief, though, because with those eyes come a slew of memories of dark forests and pools of blood.

"What are you doing sauntering around the castle after curfew?" Professor Snape says. His voice seems cold – emotionless. Perhaps he is remembering pools of blood too.

"I'm coming back from Astronomy," I say, but his scowl doesn't fade.

"Astronomy class ended ten minutes ago. Return to your tower at once." His hand grips tightly around my arm and he directs me to the grand staircase as I stumble into a hurried walk. "Ten points from Ravenclaw for being an insufferable brat."

I look at him with wide eyes, wondering if this is another prank – if perhaps Tonks is impersonating Professor Snape again, but I say nothing until we're in front of the eagle door.

"I'm sorry, sir," I say, turning away from the door to face him, unsure of my footing.

He brings a finger to his lips, making a gesture for me to be quiet. Then he lowers his face to mine and glares at me with a very severe expression.

"I would like anyone watching to believe we are at odds," he says quietly, throwing me off balance.

"Aren't we always at odds?" I say, tilting my head in amusement, and he smirks. "The corridor is empty, sir… who'd be watching us? Why?"

"I didn't take you for such a fool, Lockhart," he says softly. "Rakepick has been watching you from the moment she first arrived. Probably sooner."

"What?" I frown. " _Why_?"

"She views you as a competition. And she has made a career of eliminating her competition. Do you understand?"

I swallow hard.

"I need you to help me uncover her true motivations for being at Hogwarts," he says.

I nod automatically, feeling my mouth go dry as my palms get sticky with sweat.

"Do you think that she's after more than just the Cursed Vaults?" I ask.

"She is incredibly ambitious for a Gryffindor. Even the Vaults aren't enough for her. I believe she wants to seize control of Hogwarts, and she'll rid it of anyone who may stand in her way."

"Like us," I whisper. Suddenly, the air in my lungs doesn't seem like nearly enough.

"Here," he says, withdrawing something from his robes and placing in my hand. "Be smart. And above all, be careful."

I wrap my fingers around the cold object.

"Now get back to your dorm," he says, raising his voice in a menacing hiss and letting it carry down the empty corridor. " _Before I take any more points from Ravenclaw."_

I stand still as I watch him turn around and leave in a swirl of black fabric. A flurry of troubled thoughts overtakes my mind, until I feel as if I'm made up of nothing but a mountain of worries. I sigh and turn to look at the eagle knocker. It blinks its bronze eyes at me.

"I always run, but never walk. I often murmur, but never talk. I have a bed, but never sleep. I have a mouth, but never eat. What am I?" it says solemnly.

It takes me a few minutes to uncover the answer, mainly because my head is crowded with uneasy feelings.

"You're a river."

The door unlocks and opens.

* * *

The mysterious object in my pocket is a flask of Invisibility Potion. Though I haven't been able to discuss my unplanned trip to the forest with Professor Snape, and I still wonder how he managed to find us, I feel like what he's asking isn't something that I can refuse. Nor do I want to. Above everything, after all that has happened, I need to know what Rakepick is up to and if she's even trying to find the Vaults at all.

It's hard to walk past her and gauge what she's planning to do, because her face is always cold and unreadable. I never see her talking to any other staff members, but I guess maybe no one really enjoys her company.

I spend the rest of the week trying to find a good opportunity to drink the potion so I can hide somewhere and eavesdrop on her, but the halls are constantly teeming with people. After Julian's death, everyone seems too worried to wander the castle alone.

Nora continues to walk around with her friends, only her eyes betraying her sadness. She seems to be studying harder than ever; every time I walk past her, I see her carrying an armload of heavy books. Perhaps she's doing the same I did after my mum passed away – burying herself in her studies so she has less time to think. But, somehow, her flawless platinum hair doesn't look sloppy like mine used to.

I find her sitting alone in the library the following week and, to my surprise, sitting beside her is… Ben. Seeing the two of them together tempts me more than anything to engage in conversation, even if it disturbs Madam Pince. I hover several feet away, watching them uncertainly. Nora is perusing an advanced potions book, whereas Ben is seemingly rewriting some of his notes. Even as Ben continues to look distressed, Nora looks calm and collected, casually pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she squints at the page in concentration. I marvel at her ability to put on a brave face, despite the pain I know she must be carrying around like a heavy cloud.

I sigh. What would I say? _Hi, I found your dead brother in the woods. But my mum's dead too, so I know how you feel…_

Perhaps it's stupid to think she will want to talk to me after all. And Ben's still as much of an enigma as ever. Turning away from them, I drift into the gap between two stacks of books, searching for information about Black Winter Truffle for my first Potions assignment of the year. I'm gently pulling a book from its place when, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a red-haired woman striding confidently through the library.

Through the space left from the book I just pulled, I can see Rakepick entering the aisle next to mine. Abruptly, I hear the low hiss of her voice, dripping with irritation.

"Where did you find this key?" she asks, and the question of who's addressing is answered immediately.

"I should have known you were the thief that took it from my office," Filch says with disdain. "You haven't changed at all since you were a student."

"I asked you a simple question, Mr. Filch," Rakepick snaps, as if he hadn't said anything. "The last thing you want to do is make this complicated."

"You think you can waltz into my school _and threaten me_?" he asks with annoyance, and I hear the sound of his broom sweeping across the dusty floor.

"Are you going to answer the question, or am I going to have to see exactly what you and your cat are made of?" she says, and my mouth drops open.

Professor Snape's words about how Rakepick isn't afraid to _eliminate the competition_ fill my mind. I thought he was talking about me, but now I realize she she'll do anything, hurt anyone, to get what she wants.

"I should have hung you from your wrists when I had the chance," Filch hisses, and I can't help but stifle a giggle.

"You never had a chance. At anything," she spits. "Tell me where you got the key, squib."

 _Squib_. The thought of Gil's sisters come to my mind. That would explain why Filch hates everyone so much.

"It was a gift," he says coldly.

"Liar."

"Years ago, someone left a mysterious package in my office," he says. "There were three black quills inside, and that key."

My feet suddenly feel glued to the floor. Chills rush down my spine and I find myself squeezing my hands tightly into fists.

"You can keep it," Filch says with cold indifference. "It's rubbish, if you ask me."

"Thank you for your permission," Rakepick says, in a tone that very much suggests she would have kept it regardless. "Hopefully we won't need to speak again."

She whirls around and stalks out of the library, her loud footsteps echoing through the space despite the dampening of thousands and thousands of books. Madam Pince makes an admonition for silence as she strides past, but Rakepick ignores her.

I stare after her for several moments, frozen, before I remember that I have essays that won't write themselves. I haphazardly grab my books, check them out with Madame Pince, and hurry out of the library. I glance at Ben and Nora on my way out the door. Ben is looking at me, his eyes rather concerned.

I sincerely hope he isn't in too deep with something that's getting entirely out of hand.

Rowan and Tulip look worried when I tell them about the quills that evening. Tulip promises to try and find the two that remain in Filch's Office. Professor Snape, on the other hand, doesn't seem troubled about the content that the transfigured quills may contain. However, he spends a good portion of our private lesson on Friday mumbling about the mysterious key and what it may unlock. He only stops when I decide to talk about the erumpent in the room.

"How did you find us?" I ask, looking away from the steam of my cauldron and glancing over in his direction.

He is occupied with crushing doxy eggs and doesn't respond immediately, but I keep my eyes on him. He swallows hard, as if trying to ignore me and focus on what he's doing. When the silence has grown uncomfortably long, he puts down the blade and turns to look at me.

"I will tell you," he says at last, "if you tell me why you _disobeyed my orders_ and entered the forest again. With Miss Karasu, of all people."

I have no trouble glaring right back, because this time I have no reason to lie. Almost.

"I sleepwalked there," I say. "Sleep-flew, actually. But probably not because of the curse – apparently, I used to do that as a child." I feel no reason to mention that after awakening, instead of turning around, I kept right on going. I mean, I was already there, after all.

"You sleepwalked. _With Tulip Karasu_. To the forest," he says, his eyes narrowing, his tone practically dripping with disbelief.

"No," I say firmly, standing my ground. "She saw me and came along to make sure I'd be okay."

His eyes on me are unreadable, calculating, and I suspect he is probably wondering if I'm telling the truth.

"Read my mind," I offer. "I'm not lying." I sincerely hope he doesn't. _Lying_ is a narrow line.

"I did not say you were," he snaps. "However, Miss Lockhart, it seems that you were most definitely awake when I encountered you and Miss Karasu. One might wonder, you understand, at _precisely what point_ you became aware of your situation."

His eyes are boring into mine again, and I blink and glance away, swallowing hard. "I should've come back to the castle sooner," I admit, my voice growing small. " _I know that_. But something inside me knew that I had to keep going. Now I know why…"

My eyes are burning again, threating another river. I blink hurriedly, trying to clear them.

"You still don't understand how dangerous this is," he says. "It could have been you, instead of Mr. Long."

"I know." I look down, ashamed. Guilty. Disgusted at myself for the fleeting moment of relief that I am still here, still alive. "Forgive me."

We stay in silence for several moments, and I try to get control of my tears before they spill out and betray me. When I've finally managed it, I lift my head to face him once more.

"How did you find me?"

He steps to me in silence and, before I can react, gently grasps my wrist.

"What—" I begin, but he ignores me, turning my bracelet around until I spot a charm I hadn't noticed before. It's a black potion bottle, and it seems to glisten in the candlelight. I stare at in confusion, then look at him with a frown.

" _What is this?_ "

"It's enchanted," he says. "I've been carrying the replica. It warns me when you're in danger."

I clench my jaw. "So, you don't trust me whatsoever. You've been _tracking me_? For how long?!"

"It is not a matter of trust," he says calmly. "I did this to protect you."

"How long?" I say again, pulling my arm away. I can't believe he's done this.

"Since early November," he says quietly. "It is not what you think – not a tracking enchantment. It merely activates when you are in extreme danger, within these grounds. I felt it was necessary, considering your blatant disregard for school rules and your own safety."

I scowl, glancing back at the charm, and clasp it between my fingers. It's cold to the touch. _I_ feel cold now, betrayed. I have half a mind to rip it off the bracelet and fling it back at him, but another part of me, the one that lives in memories of blood soaking into a forest floor and plagues me with nightmares, is grateful for the small measure of security it provides. That part of me remembers the sharp relief I felt – buried beneath the shock and emptiness of my waking nightmare – when I saw his tall figure in the shadows of the forest. It had meant rescue. Safety. And it weighs on me now – a bit of protection that makes me feel like I am very slightly less alone.

I'm torn between anger and gratitude all the way from the dungeons to my dorm. I'm still tempted to remove my bracelet and never wear it again, but somehow, _somehow_ , the little potion charm make it look more complete. Whether I like it or not, my dreadful Potions master has become an important part of my life. I had an excuse to enter the forest this time – an excuse as solid as they come – and yet I can hardly lie to myself and pretend I was not planning to make the trip regardless. There is still an arrowhead out there for me to find. So, I did something behind his back, and he did something behind mine, but our mutual acknowledgment that we were both wrong is somewhat enough to put things into perspective. He knows that I won't put this quest aside, and now I know that he will not allow me to set forth unprotected.

The relief is real, loath though I am to admit it.

* * *

When I leave with my friends for Hogsmeade on Saturday, it's obvious that the security and surveillance around the castle have been heightened. There are teachers patrolling the edge of the forest as well as the surrounding areas around the Whomping Willow and the Black Lake. Madam Hooch can be spotted flying around the property, probably trying to prevent anyone from entering the forbidden places.

"That will make it much harder to find the Vault," Bill says, scratching his chin.

"There may be another way," Penny says, gazing around the grounds with a faraway look in her eyes. "But I'll have to think it through."

"What are you talking about, Pen?" Rowan asks.

"Just a possibility," she says. "I'll let you know what it's about when I have further information."

"You've very mysterious, blondie," Bill says with a smile.

Penny winks. "You haven't seen anything yet."

It's hard to focus on the sweetness of my Butterbeer while sitting across from Barnaby, who's trying with all his might to not make eye contact. He's engaged in conversation, trying to look like everything is normal, but if he feels half the way I do, I'm sure his heart is still beating unbearably hard against his chest with longing.

The pub's door opens, allowing a cold breeze to blow across the room, and I look up to see a fuming Rakepick walk steadily to the bar and exchange what appear to be angry words with Madam Rosmerta. Rosmerta shakes her head and gestures toward a staircase before leaving her position behind the bar and making her way toward it. Rakepick looks at her with irritation before following.

It happens so fast and instinctively, I'm not sure I've even made a conscious decision to do it; I reach for the potion in my pocket and take a sip of it – just enough to make me invisible for a good ten minutes.

"I'll be back," I say, my voice rote, slipping out of my seat as my friends just begin to realize what's happened while I wink out of existence. I glide past their stares of surprise, my mind laser-focused on my destination.

I climb the stairs as quietly as possible, slip through a partly ajar door at the top of the next landing, and find myself in what appears to be Madam Rosmerta's private quarters. The living room is a bit cluttered, but it's clean and smells of fresh flowers. Rosmerta and Rakepick are standing in the centre, between a couch and two armchairs with plaid upholstering. I draw back into a corner, squeezing the potion bottle firmly in my hand – keeping it close, in case I need to take another sip.

"What is this about, Rakepick?" Rosmerta asks, sounding harried.

"Is it true you knew Jacob Lockhart?" Rakepick says, her voice cold.

The mention of my brother's name draws me up short, and I'm glad I'm standing in the corner, as far away from them as possible. And I'm also very glad that I'm hearing this, whatever this is.

"You're excessively rude, you know," Rosmerta says, sitting down in one of the armchairs. "Barging into my pub. Demanding a private audience. Who do you think you are?"

"I understand he left a notebook here that had been transfigured into a black quill," Rakepick continues, as if Rosmerta hadn't spoken.

"I can't believe I'm wasting my time with you." Rosmerta sighs, rolling her eyes. "I have paying customers to attend to."

"Did he also leave a map?" Rakepick asks, placing her hands on her hips in a defiant pose.

"Excuse me?"

"A map of Hogwarts and the castle grounds! Mr. Filch confiscated it years ago, but it's no longer in his office," Rakepick practically spits.

"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," Rosmerta says, her lips drawing up into a smile that doesn't look entirely genuine and doesn't quite reach her eyes, which are cold and calculating.

"I'll need to check your storeroom," Rakepick says.

Rosmerta scoffs and stands up again, glaring at Rakepick. "Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged," Rakepick says, her lips cracking into a devilish smile.

Rosmerta eyes her coldly. "Some of my best customers are from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A couple from the Auror Office… I believe they're downstairs now, in fact, having lunch. I wonder, shall I tell them you're threatening their favourite pub, and its very patient landlady?"

Rakepick snorts, looking at Rosmerta with disdain.

"Try cleaning this dump," she offers. "You might uncover my map. And avoid having to pay for your disrespect."

Rosmerta walks to the door, opening it all the way and gesturing at the staircase beyond.

"Have a pleasant day, dear," she says. "And don't you dare step foot in my establishment again."

If stares could kill, Rakepick might just have to spend a stint in Azkaban for the one she throws at Rosmerta before she stalks from the room. Rosmerta watches her go, then sighs and sits in the armchair again, rubbing her forehead with one hand in evident frustration. Quietly, I slip out the still open door and make my way down the now empty stairs.

I slide back into my seat at our table, making Tulip screech when I touch her shoulder with my invisible hand. The potion slowly begins to wear off and I fade into being once more as my friends stare at me with a mixture of shock and exasperation.

"Wicked," Tonks says with a smirk.

"All right, everyone," Matt says, when we gather for practice on Monday. "As you know, our December match had to be postponed due to unfortunate events surrounding our mate Julian's passing. So, I was just informed that our match has been rescheduled to this Saturday, the 23rd."

"But we already have another match on February 6th," Andre says, in a somewhat whiny tone.

"I know it will be a little exhausting," Matt says evenly. "But I have faith in you guys. We can do it."

At least increased Quidditch practice should help me keep my mind off things.

To my complete joy, however, cramps start terrorizing me on Friday evening as I'm heading to my private potions lesson. I have to stop for a while, resting my hand on the wall, to take a few deep breaths so I can continue walking without squirming.

"What is wrong with you?" Professor Snape asks, when I have to rest the bottle of doxy dust on the table in order to press my hand firmly over my womb.

"I'm fine," I gasp, trying to hide my painful expression.

"Stop," he says, when I grab the bottle again, taking it from my hand and looking at me with concern. I'm not entirely sure if he's worried about me, or that I'll drop his precious doxy dust. "Go to the hospital wing. You can come back later, I'll still be here."

I sigh, leaving the dungeons and heading to the hospital, feeling piercing stabs in my womb with every step. It seems to take forever for me to finally get there, and when I do, there are students occupying many of the beds, moaning and crying in pain, apparently asleep.

"Miss Lockhart, are you all right?"

I must look as miserable as I feel, because Madam Pomfrey rushes to me and leads me to an empty bed almost immediately.

"I'm fine," I say. "I just have terrible cramps."

"Oh, thank Merlin and his beard," she says, hurrying to the cabinet and bringing me a potion for pain and another to prevent bleeding. "This place is chaos. They're guarding the forest and other unsafe places… but the students have stopped sleepwalking."

"They did?" I ask, perplexed.

"Miss Thomas over there fell asleep two weeks ago," she tells me, indicating a girl who's sound asleep. "And Miss Powell was sent here ten days ago."

"And they're still asleep?!" I say incredulously, in between gulps of potion.

"Yes, yes, and we've no idea what to do about it," she says, her voice practically dripping with anxiety.

"This curse is getting awfully dangerous," I mutter, handing back the empty potion vials. I feel almost immediate relief, and I savour the absence of pain for a moment. If only there was such a simple solution for the Cursed Vaults…

The sound of heavy steps makes me turn my head, but Madam Pomfrey suddenly pushes me fully onto the bed, forcing me lie down.

"Try and relax, Miss Lockhart," she says with a smile. "I'll let you go when I'm sure you're all right."

"Poppy." Rakepick's voice instantly makes me close my eyes and pretend I'm asleep.

"Patricia," Madam Pomfrey says kindly, walking towards the entrance to the ward.

"How are the students?" Rakepick asks.

"Still asleep."

"Damn," Rakepick says. "That's a very long time. This curse is getting worse."

"I believe the longer the curse lasts, the deeper their sleep will become." Madam Pomfrey says. "I fear that if it isn't broken soon, they may never wake again."

"And we don't understand why they've stopped sleepwalking?"

"When it happened before, Professor Dumbledore believed they stopped because of interference with the Cursed Vaults."

I hold my breath and pretend I'm asleep. Guiltily, I can't help but wonder if my journey to the forest had something to do with this.

"Does he have a hypothesis as to why the curse returned after being broken years ago?" Rakepick asks.

"Do we even _know_ if the curse was broken years ago?" Madam Pomfrey says.

"No," Rakepick says. "I suppose we don't. Thank you for everything you do, Poppy. Let's hope this curse _is_ broken soon and these students are freed."

I hear a set of footfalls walking away and another moving closer to my bed. Just when I'm about to open my eyes, I feel a hand briefly tap my shoulder.

"Isn't that right, Miss Lockhart?" Rakepick's voice says disdainfully.

I open my eyes, trying to look startled, but she only flashes me a mischievous smile.

"Send Severus Snape my regards," she says, before walking away and leaving me alone in the cold hospital.

I rush back to the dungeons as soon as I can, almost crashing into Barnaby in route, who's happily occupied discussing if Murtlaps make good pets with Liz and barely notices me. I ignore the fleeting stab of jealously and hurry off as fast as I can without running, trying not to look too desperate to spill the beans to Professor Snape.

"Did you tell your friends about this?" he asks when I finish speaking, eyeing me with his usual severe expression.

"Not yet.

"Don't," he says. "I don't believe she's working alone. And I'm certain at least one of her conspirators is a student here."

"My friends would _never_ –" I begin, but he shoots me quelling look and I fall silent, torn between resentment and concern about his words.

"She told me to send you her regards," I grudgingly say instead. "What did she mean by that?"

He smirks. "She's playing a dangerous game. Here." He hands me a bottle of something greenish that is not quite liquid. "Now that she knows we're working together, things will get even more dangerous. Take this with you wherever you go."

"What is this?"

"Garroting Gas," he says. "Anyone who inhales any will choke. Make sure not to breathe any in when you use it."

I gape at him.

"Rakepick may try to kill you," he says calmly. "And this may save your life. But do not worry, Lockhart. I'll be watching you too."

Holy shit, things are getting very dangerous around here.


	75. Year 4: Chapter 23 - You Are Not Alone

**TRIGGER ALERT!** This chapter includes a scene with suicide, so if it triggers anything for you, I advise you to be careful. This is a purely fictional story, but if anything like this is happening to you and you feel like there's nowhere to go, please, send me a message so we can talk it through. I'm here for you guys, no matter what. Remember: **you're not alone**.

 **A/N:** I wanna send a big shout you to my amazing _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ) who just finished her incredible story called Trading Places, so go check it out! Also, I wanna thank **Iniga** and **serendipitymadness** , who also are wonderful writers here, for the sweet reviews. You guys are awesome. Now let's head to the chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Three – You Are Not Alone**

I cannot sleep that night. The imminent Quidditch match against Hufflepuff should be the thing disturbing my sleep, but it's not. I can no longer trust my friends, and that stings my heart as badly as if there were a jellyfish wrapped around it. I sit on my bed, looking at Rowan and Tulip, who are both sound asleep, and ask myself if any of my friends could be working with Rakepick. My mind instinctively drifts to Ben, and I force that thought away, not ready to face it quite yet.

When the morning finally comes, bright and sunny and cold, I'm so tired I'm nearly sleepwalking. Nevertheless, I'm ready to face the game. I have breakfast with the team, and then we head to the changing rooms, where I slip on my Quidditch robes in a daze. The adrenaline floods my veins as soon as I step foot on the pitch and climb atop my broom, waking me up as effectively as a vat of coffee.

"All right, guys," Matt says, looking at all of us with an excited glint in his eye. "Let's do this!"

We push off into the air, and the wind slaps at my face, shaking my braid from side to side as I gain speed. Madam Hooch announces the beginning of the game and I try to think of nothing else as I circle the pitch, immediately training my eye to search for that elusive glint of gold.

I see Nate trailing me, but I honestly don't feel like dealing with his flirtatious shit today. Especially after I fly past the Slytherin goal posts and catch a glimpse of Barnaby casually wrapping his scarf around Liz's neck.

I groan, leaning forward to gain speed and zooming away from Nate. And Barnaby. And Liz. I wish I could just hop on my broom and zoom away from _all of it_ , leave all my problems behind.

It's hard to fly without thinking about anything: about Barnaby and Liz, about Ben and his mysterious demeanour, about Rakepick and her murderous plans. My eyes are burning with pure anger as I skirt around the underside of the Ravenclaw hoops, when something ungraciously hits my face.

The Golden Snitch.

I wrap my fingers around it before anyone can even see what's happened and rise into the sky with my arm over my head.

"And Athena Lockhart grabs the Golden Snitch," Daniel says, sounding incredibly annoyed. "Again."

It was a quick match, and I feel thankful for that. Perhaps the Snitch felt my desperation and lack of interest and decided to take pity on me and end it sooner. Nate looks terribly dismayed as he joins his team for lunch, but the Ravenclaw table is all laughter and toasts.

* * *

That afternoon, I sit with my friends by the fountain in the courtyard, and Bill tell us how he saw Nate hit one of Hufflepuff's hoops and almost fall off his broom.

"…but he managed to recover before anyone noticed," he finishes, and turns to me with a smirk. "So, do you think you'll be able to beat Gryffindor this year, Athena?"

"I think it will be a very tricky game," Rowan says. "Charlie is training really hard."

"May the best seeker win," Charlie says, giving me a high five.

Tonks doesn't seem interested in joining our discussion. She's sadly staring at her Herbology book, her hair is a dusty shade of pink.

"What's wrong, Tonks?" I ask.

"I need to pass Sprout's special test, or she'll give me detention every day until I graduate," she moans. "If she even _lets_ me graduate…"

"But what happened?"

"I snuck out after curfew."

"That's not that bad…" I say tentatively, glancing at her.

"And she borrowed Sprout's biggest Venomous Tentacula without asking," Tulip adds, amused. " _And_ placed it under Filch's desk."

"Oh." I try not to laugh.

" _And_ a few leaves got stuck to her robes and then fell inside her cauldron during Potions," Tulip finishes, looking like she's walking a tightrope between dying of laughter and attending a funeral.

"Now Sprout wants me to prove my dedication by memorizing all there is to know about Herbology," Tonks says with a heavy sigh.

"Well… when's your test?" I ask.

"Monday," she says, making a sad puppy face.

"Well, I can help you study if you want," I offer. "I learned a lot about plants and fungi during Professor Snape's private lessons."

"You must be the only one in the entire school to call him Professor," Tulip says.

I shrug. "I think is a matter of respect."

"Thank you, Athena," Tonks says. "But I don't wanna waste your time."

"Oh, come on," I tell her, standing up and pulling her to a quieter area on the side of the courtyard. I sit down on one of the large stone rails and pat the empty space beside me. "Tell me exactly what doubts you have."

"I honestly know nothing 'bout anything," she says.

I worm the book out of her hands and skim over the many highlighted passages.

"C'mon, you must know this," I say. "You highlighted it. What are the effects of ingesting the leaves of an Alihotsy tree?"

"I don't knoooow," she moans, her voice rising in sad desperation.

"Tonks, look at me," I say. "Relax. You're very clever. You'll do great."

She sighs, thinking for a while.

"It causes uncontrollable laughter," she says finally.

"Correct! See? You _do_ know stuff."

Tonks smiles, relaxing a little bit. We study for several more hours, until the sun starts to set, and our stomachs start to rumble.

"Are you more confident now?" I ask her, as we make our way toward the Great Hall for dinner.

"Very much. Thank you, Athena," she says. "I really want to have good grades, even though I'm clumsy and misbehave sometimes. I actually hope to become an Auror someday."

"That'd be awesome!" I smile.

"Well, at least I hope they let me try becoming one," she says. "Especially considering my family thing."

"Your… family thing?"

She sighs. "Not my whole family, exactly… just my aunt."

"What's wrong with your aunt?"

"She's Bellatrix Lestrange," she says, avoiding my eyes to look down at the shadowy flagstones of the courtyard.

"The… Death Eater?" I say, trying not to shriek.

"The very same," she says sadly. "She's in Azkaban now, of course, for torturing a bunch of people."

"If you ask me, I don't really think family matters that much," I say, thinking about my dad and soon-to-be stepmom, Rita Skeeter. " _You_ matter. You, and your abilities, and your hard work. Not who your aunt is… or how cursed your brother may be."

She stops and turns to face me, flashing me a sweet smile.

"You'll find him, Athena. I know you will."

Merlin, I hope she's right.

* * *

The first days of February are calm and chilly, making Matt more determined than ever to beat Gryffindor in our next match. Rowan, on the other hand, seems more distressed than ever – torn between whom to root for, even though I promised her that I don't really care if she takes Charlie's side.

"I feel like I'm a shitty friend," she admits as we both walk out of a Defence lesson with Professor Avalon. " _And_ a shitty girlfriend."

"Row, I know Matt would love for me to put Quidditch above everything else, but it's still just a game," I tell her. "I don't care if you paint your face in red and gold, I promise. You'll still be my best friend."

"You're not helping." She giggles as we head for the great staircase. "Hey, can I borrow your drawing from Kettleburn's class? Mine's terrible."

"Sure," I say, opening my bag and handing her my notebook. "Damn, I think I forgot my Dark Arts book in the classroom. Go ahead, I'll meet you upstairs."

I watch her step on the moving staircase in route to Transfiguration and rush back to Professor Avalon's classroom. It's empty and silent, but still smells of flowers and wind. I find my book underneath my chair, slip in back in my bag, and hurry back to the staircase.

I'm halfway to Transfiguration, when the sounds of their voices drift around the corner.

"I've been studying a lot of hexes," Ismelda is saying, her tone disdainful. "I can't wait to practice them on Lockhart and her friends."

I sigh, rolling my eyes, and wondering if they will ever stop bothering me. Not wanting to have a confrontation just before class, I push against the first door I see and slip inside, intending to continue on when they pass.

"Can't wait to learn that Incarcerous curse," Merula says, their voices growing louder as they near my hiding spot. "Sounds very useful."

 _Those spiteful little bitches…_

I sigh again and rest my back against the closed door, staring around the room I've entered as I listen to their footsteps recede into the distance. It is a small bathroom, one I haven't ever seen before. It's rather quiet, and even somewhat lonely for its emptiness, and the rays of light spilling in through the narrow windows give it an almost ethereal glow. It looks a bit sad, but it's actually refreshing to find a place so peaceful, and even though I'm running late, I take a moment to use it and enjoy the solitude before I have to head to class.

The sinks are arranged around the centre of the room in a circular pattern, an odd layout that only adds to its eccentricity. As I'm splashing cold water on my face, I notice a tiny snake embossed in the rusty faucet of the sink next to mine. I run my fingers over it curiously, feeling the slight grooves in the metal. Was this always here, or did some girl scratch it in? A Slytherin, perhaps, who was proud of her house? Someone not at all like Merula, I hope.

The second bell rings abruptly, echoing through the circular chambers of the bathroom and jogging me out of my daydreams. Looks like I'll be late to class after all, and Professor McGonagall won't be pleased at all. Hopefully Rowan will have told her where I've gone.

I reach for my bag when a sudden gasp, and the heavy thud of something falling, makes me freeze. I whirl around, my hair flying, my heart pounding suddenly in my chest.

I was so sure the bathroom was empty. I'm not sure why someone else being here would set me so on edge, but it does.

"Who's there?" I ask, my voice ringing through the room.

My only answer is silence. But with silence, comes something else…

A faint smell of iron.

Chills run down my spine.

"Hello?" I say again, my voice getting higher as I take several cautious steps toward the stalls. "Are you OK?"

From where I'm standing, I can see a pair of black loafers peeking out from underneath the last stall, pressed up against the stone wall. I risk another step forward, my heart nearly stopping as I see something dark trailing out from under the door, pooling into a thick, red puddle.

 _Oh Merlin…_

My bag slips from my shoulder and falls to the ground with a thud as I rush to the stall, yanking the door open. I want to scream, but my voice is gone. I must have left it somewhere behind me, with my bag… or maybe I left it back there… back there in the living room…

I kneel, grabbing her cold, thin frame in my hands as my eyes rove across Nora Long's bloody body, searching for the source of injury. But, somehow, I already know. I've already known it, from the moment I saw the blood begin to pool beneath her, betraying her attempts, spelling out her tears in red for all the world to see.

There are deep cuts on her forearms, and her sleeves are torn open and entirely soaked with blood, her wand lying in the pool beneath her. She looks at me, blinking weakly. She does not look afraid.

"Nora," I moan, trembling violently, trying to push my mother from my mind as her green eyes look deep into mine, seemingly already on the verge of transcending into somewhere else, into something more. "Nora, what happened?"

I can't even fathom why I'm asking her, but the words slip out as if a stranger says them.

Instinctively, I reach for my wand, trying to keep it steady in my hand, but I'm shaking so much that even the tightest grip doesn't feel firm enough.

" _Episkey_!" I scream, my voice rising hysterically as I point the wand at the jagged mess of her arms. But my spell does nothing. " _Episkey! EPISKEY!"_

Nothing.

 _I am back in the Forbidden Forest._

" _Episkey!"_ I choke out, sobbing.

 _I am kneeling next to Julian's lifeless body, desperately trying to heal him with my useless magic._

" _Episkey! EPISKEY!"_

I force myself into the present, shoving my growing anguish aside with the biggest effort that it has ever cost me, trying to hold on to just a sliver of my sanity. Nora's face comes into focus before me once more, her eyes blinking closed, weary now from the blood loss, from the pain, from the effort of living this life.

 _I know how much it cuts._

I toss my wand aside, ripping off a piece of my sleeve and wrapping it firmly around the bleeding wound on her left arm. But even as I reach for another piece, I see that it is useless. A plaster can't stop this; it isn't enough to chain down a life.

"Nora," I gasp, "why? _Why?_ "

Her eyes flicker open again, looking into mine with an emptiness. Only half of her is still there, in those eyes. Maybe less. The rest has drained out, is spreading across the chipped tiles of the floor.

"I'm going to see him again," she whispers, her lips barely moving against the canvas of her deathly pale face, drawing up into the ghost of a smile. "I'm going to see my brother…"

My mouth opens and closes several times, trying to find words that make sense, but I can't find any. Instead, all I do is feel warm droplets falling from my eyes, blending with the dark stains on her robes.

How futile is it, to make promises of a better tomorrow, when I can literally feel tomorrow flowing over my hands?

"Nora, no," I gasp, pulling her toward me, wrapping my arms around her. "HELP! SOMEBODY! I NEED HELP!"

"For crying out loud, why all the yelling?" A chirpy voice says from behind me, and I whirl around abruptly.

Though I've caught rare, brief, and distant glimpses of her during my walks around the castle, nothing has prepared me for the translucent image of Myrtle, in her pigtails and school robes, floating in front of the stall, looking not a day older than me. She fixes her glasses in a bored manner and looks at me with raised eyebrows.

"You interrupted my thoughts about de–"

And then her eyes widen as she sees the tiny body in my arms, and she makes a sound as if she's choking.

"Help me, Myrtle!" I cry. "Please! _Go get someone!_ "

Myrtle says nothing; she simply drifts up into the ceiling and disappears. I'm left with Nora's almost unconscious form, growing colder by the second as her life bleeds out of her, spilling across my arms in rivers of red.

"Nora!" I moan, shaking her gently. " _Nora, talk to me!_ "

She blinks weakly, her eyes dull, almost lifeless.

"I thought I wanted to be alone," she tells me in a whisper. "But I'm so glad you're here." Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her. I lean in, her lips nearly touching my ear. "It's nice to have someone with me… when I go."

"Nora, no!" I cry. "You're not going anywhere! Look at me! Talk to me!"

"Don't worry," she whispers, resting her head against my chest. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Nora!" I choke out, dropping my face into her flawless platinum hair... smeared now with red. "Please… don't go. Talk to me."

The only answer is silence.

It seems to take forever for the first footsteps to reach the bathroom, echoing softly off its walls, and I turn my bleary eyes to see Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Snape approaching me, their expressions shocked.

"Oh, my dear lord!" Madam Pomfrey gasps, rushing towards us. She points her wand at Nora's arms, using the same spells she's taught me, but just like when I attempted them, they have no effect.

"Miss Lockhart," Professor McGonagall says in a choked voice, pulling me away from Nora and helping me to my feet. "What has happened?"

I swallow hard, looking for words.

"She said… she said she was going to see… Julian…"

The tears come hard now, the sobs escaping into the echoing room, which throws them back at me, until it sounds like the whole world is crying.

Madame Pomfrey is shaking her head, her face grave.

I don't think I will ever forget this vision of her, shrouded in defeat as she kneels over the husk of a girl.

"I don't understand," Madam Pomfrey says quietly. "Did you try to heal the wounds?"

I nod.

"It – it didn't work," I choke out, staring down at the floor.

It's so red.

The whole world is so red. So broken.

"She's holding something," Professor Snape says quietly, reaching forward to retrieve a small object from Nora's limp fingers.

It's an empty phial, so small I hadn't noticed it in all the time I spent with her. He opens the cap, sniffing it carefully. His face twists into a mournful expression.

"Aqua Sanguina," he says, and both Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall gasp.

"What?" I manage. "What kind of potion is it?"

Professor Snape glances at me, his dark eyes unreadable.

"It is a blood-thinning potion," he says quietly. "Used very effectively in small doses to treat blood clots… a life-saving medication. But when taken in excess, it can cause severe haemorrhaging."

The words echo in my head, filling it.

She was so sure. No going back. No contingency.

 _She didn't want to be saved._

I feel my trembling legs slowly giving in, growing weaker and weaker, as the blurriness overtakes my vision; but I know this time, tears are not the cause. The last thing I see before everything turns black are blurry faces reaching for me.

Jet black eyes.

And then, darkness.

It wraps around me like a blanket. And I don't think I ever want to feel again.

* * *

I do not open my eyes, but I know I'm being carried. Someone is holding me firmly, cradling my head. I feel safe. I drift. There is a subtle smell of moss grazing my nose. It makes me think of flying. I grasp weakly at cloth.

The shadows darken.

All goes black.

I drift between nightmares, flashing from my mum's death, to the forest, back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. My head spins from grief, from pain; my heart drowning deep in sorrow and regret.

Nora's eyes flash before me; shiny then dull. Opaque. I scream, but no sound comes out. My voice is trapped in my throat, in my lungs, along with all my long-repressed and forgotten feelings.

 _Oh, Nora._ Why didn't I stop you? Why didn't I pull you aside, and ask you if it was all too heavy to bear? Why didn't I hold out my hand? I could have helped you carry it, this burden. Why did I let the shine of your hair put me off? That's what you wanted, isn't it? Why didn't I see… that you wore that shine like armour?

But it's too late now, isn't it? You're somewhere I can't reach you now. Like Mum. Like Julian. Maybe even like Jacob.

It's too late. It wasn't enough.

I can't breathe.

"Miss Khanna, you have to go back to your common room." Madam Pomfrey's voice sounds very far away.

"I won't leave her, Madam." Rowan's voice is also a distant echo, part of the flow of the river that is drowning me as it pulls me under.

I can feel her warm hand holding mine, but I can't find the strength to open my eyes. I feel so tired, so weak, stumbling from nightmare to nightmare.

How long… how long has it been?

There's sunlight flooding the hospital wing when I finally manage to crack open my eyes. I squint against the raw harshness of it, turning my head to find my best friend curled in an armchair next to my bed. Rowan's head is resting on her arm, and her black hair cascades around her in a tangled mess.

"Row," I choke out, my voice a rasp as it breaks free of my dry throat.

Rowan wakes up so abruptly that I almost wonder if she was really sleeping at all. There are dark bags under her eyes, and her face is pale and drawn. She scoots closer to the bed, grasping my hand between both of hers.

"Hey," she whispers, looking at me with concern. "How are you feeling?"

"Was it just a nightmare?" I ask her, feeling the tears prickling at the edges of my eyes again, threatening to spill over.

Her lips draw into a tight line, and she shakes her head, her eyes welling up with tears. I sob. I wonder, as they roll down my cheeks, how could there still be tears left within me?

 _If only Nora had cried tears instead of blood._

Rowan slips into my bed and wraps her arms around me, filling my nose with the scent of ink, parchment, books, and flowers. Her scent is so familiar. Comforting. Her grip is tight around me, and I hide my face in her shoulder, letting the feeling of failure wash over me.

 _If Nora had had someone to hold on to like this, someone to anchor her to the ground, would she still be here with us?_

"It's going be all right," Rowan whispers.

"I have to find the Vault, Row," I gasp, raising my head to look into her dark eyes. "I can't let people keep dying."

"Nora didn't die because of the Vault," she says softly.

"She did," I whisper, through my tears. "If it wasn't for the Vaults… if it wasn't for Julian… It's all connected, Row. Can't you see?"

Rowan doesn't reply; she simply nods and runs her fingers through my hair, letting me cry into her shoulder.

* * *

Classes weren't cancelled. There's no announcement. No memorial. It's like nothing has happened.

There are still students cursed asleep in the hospital wing when I finally leave, and when I return to class, the teachers are continuing lessons as if everything is normal. Just another day. Everyone seems to be avoiding the erumpent in the room.

"The Ministry's hushing up the case," Bill tells us on Friday before breakfast. "My dad said Nora's parents are threatening to expose our world because of Hogwarts' incompetence."

"They're not wrong…" I mumble.

"Rakepick's not helpful at all," Rowan says with a sigh. "She has been here for months and she's done absolutely nothing!"

"But that doesn't mean that it's your responsibility to put an end to this, Athena," Charlie says quickly, placing Rowan's hand on my arm before heading to his Quidditch practice.

"Charlie's right, Athie," Rowan says, giving my arm a squeeze. "This isn't your fault. And it's not your job to fix it."

"It shouldn't be, but it is," I say, squeezing my fists in anger. "It should be everyone's burden, because it affects fucking everyone. But Dumbledore's off somewhere doing whatever, and Rakepick's here doing nothing. Meanwhile, we're trying to figure this out, but the faculty keeps on trying to stop us and making us feel like _we're_ doing something wrong!"

My friends stare at me with concern, but I can see in their eyes that they understand it too, that they agree with me.

"But there's no way we can convince the teachers," Tonks says. "Especially when they see that Tulip and I are involved. They'll think we're up to something."

"The forest is never unguarded now," Bill adds. "You won't be able to simply walk inside without anyone seeing."

"There might be a way," Penny says suddenly. She turns to me, her eyes blazing. "Athena, I think it's time for you to meet someone..."


	76. Year 4: Chapter 24 - Red Eyes and Secret

**A/N:** Hi, guys! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to upload this chapter. Last week was cra-a-zy with all the assignments I had to do, but here I am, at last, to upload chapter 24. Hope you like it! As always, I wanna thank my absolutely amazing _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's making this story sound even better than when I imagined it. She's also an incredible writer here and just finished her story **Trading Places** , that I really, really loved! I also want to thank **Son of Whitebeard** , **Sonny Daniels** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** and **serendipitymadness.** Thanks a lot, guys! You are the source of my inspiration. Let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Four – Red Eyes and Secrets**

* * *

There's a gathering the following morning, February 6th, in the Ravenclaw common room that I wasn't expecting. Professor Flitwick, Madam Hooch, and my teammates are standing before the fireplace deep in discussion, but they stop talking when I enter the room.

"Miss Lockhart," Professor Flitwick says, motioning me over. "There's something we'd like to discuss.

"Yes?" I say, reluctantly approaching them, my hands clasped behind my back. Whatever this is about, it can't be good.

"We don't think it's a good idea for you to play today," Madam Hooch says.

"What?" I'm surprised. This I wasn't expecting. "Why?"

"Mainly because you just experienced something awfully tragic," Matt says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But also, because you don't look very well."

"I'm fine," I lie, even though the truth is I haven't been sleeping well for days, and I'm so exhausted that standing straight requires an incredible amount of concentration.

"There's no need to be tough right now, blondie," Andre says. "We're in this together."

"Exactly," I tell him. "That's why I have to play. I've been practicing for this for months!"

"We can still manage to win without you," Link tells me. "I won't let any Quaffles pass, and we'll score as many points as possible."

"So even if Charlie manages to get the Snitch, we'll still win," Liam adds, smiling confidently.

"Sounds like an awful plan," I say, rolling my eyes. "Come on. Please, Professor Flitwick. Let me do this. For Ravenclaw."

I'm not even sure why I'm lying. They may, in truth, be better off without me, but I need the distraction of Quidditch as much as I need air to breathe. Maybe more.

My dear Charms professor squints at me as if he's considering it, but he still looks extremely concerned.

"If you show the slightest lack of disposition during the match, you'll return straight to the ground. Am I clear?" he says firmly.

"Filius! Surely—" Madam Hooch begins, but Flitwick makes a gesture for her to stop.

"Athena has proven to be very responsible and a great player, even under difficult circumstances," he says, even as he looks displeased about it. "If she believes herself capable, let us allow her to try."

"Thank you, sir," I say, hoping that I can fight off my exhaustion, lest I disappoint him.

We head to the pitch after breakfast, and the feel of the broom in my hands is enough to make me feel a little better. I soar high into the sky, thankful for that delicious sense of openness. When I look down to the lawn and see the curtain of dry grass extending before me like a winter blanket, I feel free. I can't help but imagine that if I fly high enough, I'll be able to outrun every terrible thing that's chasing me down. I allow the feeling to grow, taking hold of me as I circle the pitch, looking for the golden ball. But I don't see it anywhere.

Even up here in the air, it's hard to fly away the memories of Nora, but I try my best to suppress them, so I don't miss the Snitch and disappoint Flitwick and my team. I circle the hoops on both sides, dodge several Bludgers, and even ignore Charlie as he flies past me, looking simultaneously euphoric and determined as he makes pirouettes on his broom.

There's no sign of the Snitch, but thankfully my team has already scored sixty points. Somehow, I'm beginning to hope that we'll win on points alone, just as Link suggested, even though I really want to find the golden ball and show them that they don't need to swathe me in concern. What makes me slightly anxious is that Charlie seems to be way more prepared than I am, not to mention much more awake. I can feel my exhaustion catching up to me as I fly, now that the initial burst of adrenaline has worn off. I push on, ignoring the creeping tendrils of tiredness pulling at the edges of my eyes.

The sun is shining so brightly. It hurts my eyes. I let them flicker shut for an interval. Then a longer interval.

"Ravenclaw is one hundred points up!"

Daniel's voice snaps me out of my daze, and I glance around the brightness of the pitch. One hundred points. If I can just hold on for another fifty, maybe…

The ground seems to be pulling at me, weighing down all my limbs with gravity. I drift lower, trying to infuse the motion with intent. My burning eyes search through the blazing light, looking for the trademark red of Charlie's hair.

And then I hear the excited screams.

My head whips upward and I see Charlie, silhouetted against the clouds, diving fast as a bullet towards a tiny spark of gold.

There's no use trying to rush in his direction, though I try anyway. Even as I spur my broom into action, he skilfully dodges a Bludger and reaches out to wrap his fingers around the Snitch. One hundred and fifty points for Gryffindor.

"And Charlie Weasley grabs the Golden Snitch!" Daniel cries in excitement. "It was close, Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor wins!"

I sigh, wearily pulling my broom to a stop and clambering off, my feet safely touching the ground. A crowed is forming on the pitch to congratulate Charlie, and it makes me a bit relieved that I can disappear to the changing rooms without anyone noticing.

"You did great today," Matt says, entering the room as I'm putting away my Quidditch gear.

I scowl. "You're only saying that cause you're my captain. It's your job to keep me inspired."

"But I mean it, Athena," he says. "The last years have been… hard on you. But still, you manage to succeed in everything you do. You're the inspiration here." He pats my shoulder in a reassuring sort of way.

"But I didn't catch the Snitch," I say sadly.

"It doesn't matter," he says. "Even if Gryffindor beats Hufflepuff, we'll still finish second."

"I'm sorry," I say, sighing. "You should've got a better Seeker."

"Well, it's actually Isaac's fault." He shrugs and gives me a smirk. "Now come on. Let's go have some lunch and let off some steam."

* * *

I'd like to say I'm the kind of person that notices everybody, even the people hiding on the edges, but apparently, I'm not. When Penny walks me to the Owlery on Sunday afternoon with promises of a sweet friend who is ready and willing to help, I'm not expecting to see someone I've never seen before.

Apart from the owls sleeping with their heads under their wings, the Owlery is deserted. After taking a searching look around, I turn back to the door to tell Penny he didn't come, but she's already gone. I contemplate running off and giving up on the whole thing, but I trust Penny beyond reason and know she would never pull a Tonks or Tulip and set me up on a fake meeting, so I decide to wait for a little bit, my eyes drifting to Twilight's sleeping form.

My mind drifts as I watch the gentle rise and fall of his feathery chest. He looks so happy, so careless, and I'm sure his dreams are untroubled by dark visions and memories. Twilight's largest source of aggravation may well be Barnaby's affections for me. It makes me smile a bit wistfully. I wish I had an easy and careless mind too, so I wouldn't torture myself with so many thoughts… but that's not who I am. I had escaped to my dorm yesterday after lunch, no longer able to stay on my feet, and after struggling to find a comfortable position for a painfully long time, I finally fell asleep. But, of course, there was no sweet dreamland waiting for me.

I relived Nora's death several times before finally waking up. The dorm was completely empty — a relief, for I awoke screaming. There were so many tears falling down my face that I could barely see my way to the bathroom. I had splashed enough water on my face to risk drowning, staring at my puffy eyes and dark circles and wondering if I'd be okay if I just stopped sleeping for a while.

How long had I been living my life between a rock and a hard place?

The sound of wings snaps me out of my daze, and I turn around to see a majestic golden eagle alighting on the windowsill. It pauses, staring at me with sharp reddish eyes. It's an unusual bird among the owls, but there had been cases of families sending letters through ravens, macaws, and the occasional cockatoo, so its appearance is not entirely unprecedented. I sigh and glance at my watch, wondering how long it will take for Penny's friend to show up. Maybe I should just give up after all. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the golden eagle leap forward and do something very, very strange.

I whip my head up, gaping.

The eagle has turned into a boy. He lands softly on the dropping-strewn floor, his feet barely making a sound. His hair falls gracefully down around his face.

I try not to let my mouth hang open, especially considering I've seen Professor McGonagall transform in front of the class several times, but I definitely didn't expect Penny's friend to be an Animagus.

"Hello," he says, his face serene. I stare, shocked into silence. He pushes his hair back behind his ears and smooths down his robes, eyeing me calmly.

I close my mouth, looking him over. He has a heart-shaped face and a pointy chin — features that only amplify his serious expression. His nose is also pointy, almost like an eagle's beak. His skin has a cinnamon tone, and his brownish hair, pulled back, forms a V on his forehead. But none of these features are strange or unusual; what really draws my attention are his dark red eyes.

"Hi," I say finally, trying to make my voice sound less awkward — as if he didn't just catch me entirely unaware. "You're Penny's friend."

"I'm Talbott Winger," he says.

"Pleasure," I say. "I'm—"

"Athena Lockhart. I know."

"People always seem to know who I am," I say, after a slight pause.

"Main reason why I enjoy being alone," he says dispassionately.

I search for some kind of response that won't be entirely awkward. "So… You're an Animagus."

"Clearly," he says, his red eyes boring into mine. He seems to not have to blink as much as regular humans. Perhaps eagles don't blink very much. "That's why Penny wanted you to meet me."

My face draws up in confusion, an emotion he seems to have no trouble deciphering.

"She didn't tell you why you should come here," he says, still in the same dispassionate tone. "Typical of Penny. Always mysterious."

I shrug, trying to regain my conversational footing. "I think she just really enjoys plot twists. I didn't know you guys were friends, for example."

"Penny was one of the few people to actually notice me," he says, his eyes still looking directly into mine in a way that makes me want to blink and look away. I resist the temptation, staring right back. "And the only one determined enough to try and become my friend. She has succeeded, you see, but we have this pact that she won't make me walk around with her friends, and I won't talk about birds."

"I find birds to be marvellous creatures," I say, running my knuckles across Twilight's feathers.

A subtle smile appears on Talbott's thin lips, but it fades quickly, his expression falling back into serene calmness so fast I almost wonder if I imagined it.

"So," I say, "Penny wanted me to meet you because you're an Animagus. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm going to teach you how to become one as well, Athena," he says calmly.

"What?" I gasp, incredulous.

"I am well aware of your situation," he says. "There's no way you can sneak into the forest in your human form. But as an animal, anything is possible."

"That's what you do when you're in your eagle form?" I ask. "Sneak into the forest?"

He shrugs. "Sometimes. I mainly just enjoy flying over the castle. The view from the rooftops is unparalleled."

"Sounds incredible," I say. A million thoughts are flying through my mind at once, but one stands out amongst them. _This is incredible._ This could be just the answer I need.

"But don't go thinking it will be an easy process," he says. "It's difficult and very dangerous, and also illegal."

"How can it be illegal?"

"It is when you're unregistered."

I fall silent for a while, gazing through a window into the bright blue sky. How marvellous would it be to spread my wings above the clouds and soar into that freedom without anyone ever noticing who I truly am?

Talbott doesn't know me, so he couldn't possibly understand how I don't see becoming an unregistered Animagus as something dangerous. After all the tragedies I've already witnessed and all the dark shadows looming on the horizon, becoming an animal is the least of my worries.

More than anything, it feels like an escape.

"All right, Talbott," I say, staring him down, my gaze nearly as hard as his. "Tell me what to do."

* * *

A chrysalis of a Death's-Head Hawkmoth.

A dewdrop from a place untouched by sunlight and human feet for seven days, collected with a silver spoon.

A Mandrake leaf.

Sounds easy enough.

I find a book on magical insects in the library and immediately flip to the part about Lepidoptera. Apparently, the only Death's-Head Hawkmoth available in Europe is named _Acherontia atropos_ , and it lays its eggs under the leaves of plants from the families Solanaceae, Verbenaceae, Oleaceae, and Bignoniaceae. At this point, I confess to myself that I have no freaking idea what I'm reading, so I look for another book, this time on magical plant identification.

From the images in the book, I can already identify several plants from these families that grow on the Hogwarts grounds. Some of them are easy to find, like tomato and pepper, but I don't think Rubeus would leave his plants full of moth eggs. I suppose I'll have to look under several different plants until I find the chrysalis.

Again, sounds easy enough.

Talbott gave me a tiny vase of Midnight Dew Dwarf Aloe. He told me to keep it safe inside a drawer to allow the dew to form within a week of sun deprivation. The silver spoon I smuggled from the breakfast table.

The Mandrake leaf is the easiest to get, but I must keep it in my mouth for thirty days, until the next full moon. I spend the first day worrying that I might accidentally swallow it, so Rowan casts a spell inside my mouth to allow the leaf to glue itself to the underside of my tongue.

"I hope this works," she says. "If you feel like the spell is weakening, tell me so I can cast it again."

I do not see or speak to Talbott in the course of the following week, and I'm beginning to think he may have been a figment of my imagination. Penny doesn't talk about him whatsoever, and my constant lack of sleep is contributing to my belief that it was all just a very crazy dream.

The sleep deprivation also affects my academic performance: my spells are weaker, my handwriting is awful, and, for the first time in years, I just do the bare minimum in my History of Magic essay. Even though Rowan is sleeping with me in my bed nightly, I don't trust my unconsciousness to relax and simply let me sleep. I have too much experiences to the contrary, so I spend the nights humming lyrics inside my head and convincing myself that if I just push hard enough, I'll finally find Jake.

Keeping up a sleepless existence is quite taxing, however, and so far, I've only been managing because I brewed some Wideye Potion during my free period on Tuesday, and that's the only thing preventing me from collapsing in the middle of class. I have several phials of it stored in my bag, and whenever I start feeling sleepy, I take a few sips. It doesn't stop me from feeling awful, or encourage me to be particularly good at anything, but at least it keeps me awake.

By Friday, I hardly notice the Mandrake leaf anymore.

That afternoon, I head to the dungeons for my double Potions lesson. I somehow managed to keep myself composed during lessons despite my relentless exhaustion all week, and my awful performance somehow hasn't been reflected in my potions. However, by this point, I'm so exhausted I'm barely functioning, and I don't need to glance at a mirror to know that I look dreadful.

"You look awful," Professor Snape says, reinforcing my feelings when I step into the dungeon. "Have you been sleeping?"

"Yes," I say.

"You're lying," he says dryly. "When is the last time you slept?"

I shrug and avoid his eyes, remembering what he said about eye contact. Though honestly, I'm surprised I can remember anything by this point. I'm starting to think it won't be long before I've forgotten my own name.

"How long?" he repeats, as I reach for my bag and grab my last phial of potion.

"A week," I mutter, downing the last gulp. It tastes like a warm, fluffy bed. And torture.

He continues the interrogation. "What are you drinking?"

"Wideye Potion," I say calmly.

"Why are you taking this?" he demands, grabbing the empty phial from my hand.

"Because I can't sleep," I say. "And I'm tired."

"That does not make any sense," he says. "If you cannot sleep, I can make you a potion to—"

"You don't understand!" I cry, my voice rising desperately. Apparently, it doesn't take much to set me off without sleep as a buffer. "I _can't_ sleep! Whenever I sleep, I see them again. My mum… Julian… Nora… _It's fucking killing me!"_

Professor Snape says nothing, not even when I swear in front of him; he simply waves his wand and conjures a steamy cup of tea. He places it on his desk and summons a second chair with his wand.

"Sit," he says, placing several essays next to the cup. "Drink. You will assist me in grading papers."

"Won't we be brewing anything today?" I ask, dropping down into the chair.

"I would prefer for you to not fall asleep inside a boiling cauldron," he says, sitting down on his chair and dipping his black quill into an inkpot. "I imagine the paperwork would be quite tedious."

I wonder if he is actually making a joke.

Sighing, I reach for the hot cup of tea and take several sips. It tastes slightly bitter, and I decide I don't much fancy his tea selection, but the dungeon is rather cold, and the tea warms me up. I turn to the stack of essays, and I'm immediately overwhelmed in a monotony of untidily scrawled assumptions about the properties of unicorn hair, most of which are not entirely accurate. Somewhere between the tenth and the eleventh essay, my eyelids begin to feel heavy and my head slips to rest on my hand. Considering the state of them, I'm almost surprised it's taken this long. I risk a glance up, but Professor Snape seems to be completely immersed in his work, decidedly not looking at me.

I drop my quill for a few moments, reaching for the tea again, and when I look back at the parchment before me, all the sentences are blurred. I rub my eyes, sighing. Almost two more hours before I can finally have dinner for sustenance and go back to my dorm, and I'm entirely out of Wideye Potion. Maybe I can brew some more tonight.

I'm so utterly exhausted. Hopefully I don't fuck it up and poison myself by accident.

I cannot seem to fight off this desire to sleep for a moment more. One second, I'm trying really hard to stay awake, and the next I'm resting my head over my arms, and then everything… everything is black.

* * *

There are no bad dreams. Instead, there's only warmth, comfort, and a relaxing smell of musk and moss. I haven't felt this content since before I found Nora, and it makes me feel a bit guilty for enjoying this moment when she's gone.

My eyes flicker open lazily and I glance around… and nearly have a panic attack when I realize I'm not in my dorm. One wild look around the slightly familiar room confirms that I'm not in the Potions classroom either.

The shelves full of potions ingredients, old books, and odd-looking flasks — along with the dark desk covered in books — make me realize that I'm in Professor Snape's office.

"Fuck," I mutter, sitting up. Apparently, I've been sleeping on a velvety black chaise lounge. There's a warm black blanket over me that slides down when I move, and when I touch it, I realize it's his robes. The fabric is heavy, but also surprisingly soft. I'm entirely mortified.

I hear soft footfalls approaching and glance around to see Professor Snape entering the office with a box of empty flasks.

"You're awake," he says, glancing at me.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir," I mutter, embarrassed. "How long was I asleep?"

"Half an hour," he says calmly, and I feel my cheeks burning.

"Why did you let me sleep?" I say quietly, staring down at my hands.

"I not only let you sleep, I ensured that you would," he says, and I frown in confusion. "I gave you belladonna tea with fairy dust, Miss Lockhart. It is a potion for dreamless sleep."

I sigh, still staring at my hands. It seems like every adult in my life, especially Professor Snape, insists on making life decisions for me. First the bracelet and now this. I am perfectly capable of deciding on my own when I want to sleep. Or not. But admittedly, I cannot deny that the thirty minutes of sleep was a relief, even though I'm still utterly exhausted.

"There is still an hour left of our lesson," he says, walking to the shelves arranged by the wall and placing the empty phials in their proper places. "You should go back to sleep."

"I'm not here to sleep," I say, still feeling embarrassed. I want to be angry about the potion, but I can't seem to muster up the energy to do so.

He glances at me, and I can almost see his eyes twitch in exasperation. "You are here to do as I say. You cannot be of any use brewing potions, _or_ staying ahead of Rakepick, if you are not rested enough to function. Now, if you are not able to sleep on your own, I can give you more of this potion to take in the evenings. Sleeping is not optional, Miss Lockhart."

"But—"

"I told you, I'll be watching over you," he says, cutting off my feeble protests. "Now go to sleep. I assure you, this potion is entirely effective in preventing dreams."

As if tired of arguing with me, he turns around and walks to his desk. I watch him sit down and open a huge, dusty book. His dark eyes rove across the page, entirely ignoring me. Sighing, I give up and curl up on the couch, wrapping the robes around me as I rest my head on the velvety cushion.

Despite my protestations, dreamless sleep is a relief. If this truly works, I may have found a new crutch, and I don't know how I will make do without it from now on.

I allow my eyes to flutter back into sweet, blissful darkness.


	77. Year 4: Chapter 25 - The Calm Before the

**A/N:** Good morning, my beautiful lovelies! How are you doing today? The day is misty and cold in the city I live in, but the sun is slowly showing itself from behind the clouds. Athena's fourth year is coming to an end; it will have 32 chapters total, so we're almost there! Before heading to Chapter 25, I wanna send a big shout out to my wonderful _Beta_ **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's an amazing writer, so go check out her stories too! She even has an awesome Merula one-shot, called **Underneath the Ice** , which I absolutely loved! Also, I wanna thank **Son of Whitebeard** , **serendipitymadness** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **Anonymous** and **Guest** for the sweet, sweet reviews! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? I hope you guys like it! Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Five – The Calm Before the Storm**

* * *

 _An Animagus (pl. Animagi) is a witch or wizard who can morph him or herself into an animal at will. Unlike the hereditary skill of a Metamorphmagus, becoming an Animagus is a learned skill._

 _It takes practice and patience to become an Animagus. The process is long and arduous, and holds the potential to go horribly wrong. Because it is such an advanced and difficult form of magic, many witches and wizards prefer to learn other methods for disguise and concealment._

 _The process can result in disaster. If done incorrectly, adverse effects include, but are not limited to, permanent half-human, half-animal mutations._

 _Each Animagus bears an identifying mark on their animal form that directly correlates to a distinguishing trait on their human body. This may be a physical trait (like big teeth or blue eyes) or an acquired trait (like glasses). If an Animagus undergoes a significant physical change, such as the irreplaceable loss of a limb, this change will be reflected in their animal form._

I sigh, trying not to think about everything that could go wrong, and focus only on everything that could go right and how this would make everything a lot easier. Focusing on what's positive helps me feel a little better as I sift through all the darkness that still remains inside of me.

Studying what I'm about to become makes me feel like I'm doing something meaningful to solve the problems around me, and it gives me a sense of purpose. Everything else feels just a little less tense, and filling my brain with important knowledge makes me think of Rowena Ravenclaw. Perhaps, if I'm lucky enough, I could become a bird just like Talbott. Maybe a raven… or an eagle… or an owl, like Twilight. It would be refreshing, amazing to be able to fly as a bird. It must be the most incredible sensation in the world.

I haven't found the moth's chrysalis yet, but I still have three more weeks to do it. However, I have a lot to keep my mind occupied in the meantime. I received a most mysterious note from Talbott telling me to study about Animagi and to meet him the following Saturday, so he can teach me an important spell. Somehow, I can't stop wondering if he sent the message by owl, or if he delivered it himself.

* * *

On Saturday morning, I meet Talbott inside an empty classroom. He seems just as serious as I remember, and it's odd to see him after weeks of silence, odder even considering I haven't seen a shadow of him since the day we first met.

"What house are you in, Talbott?" I ask him.

"I'm in Ravenclaw," he says, in a tone that suggests I should already know. I'm floored.

"How can you be in Ravenclaw? I've never see you anywhere!"

"I'm a year older than you," he says, as if that explains everything. As if that explains four years of sharing a common room. "And besides, I don't hang out much."

"I'm beginning to see that," I say.

He draws his wand, rolling it between his fingers. "I'll teach you the Animagus spell today. I assume you must have read about it."

"Indeed," I say.

"Repeat after me," he says firmly. " _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_."

I smile. "Sounds like a tongue twister. _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_."

"Very good," he says, drawing nearer and reaching out to grasp my right hand with delicacy. "Now move your wrist like this."

The sudden touch makes me stiffen my shoulders slightly, but he doesn't seem to notice. He simply takes a step back and instructs me to perform the spell.

The movement is gentle, almost like caressing the air, and when I sound out the incantation, I immediately feel a warmth flood inside me, pulsing through my organs, bones, and veins. The sensation is incredible, and while I stand still, enjoying the feeling, I can almost hear a second heartbeat.

"Amazing," I say, delighted.

"After you prepare the Animagus potion, you'll need to perform this spell every dawn and every dusk without fail until the next electrical storm."

I nod. "Why did you become an Animagus, Talbott?" I ask, curious, and he looks away.

"One day I'll tell you," he says gloomily. "Or not."

"Okay." I frown, but don't press. "Another question. Why did you agree to help me?"

He shrugs. "Because Penny asked me."

"That's the only reason?"

"What other could there be?"

That stings, just a little bit.

"So, you're willing to teach me extremely advanced magic, just because Penny asked, but you're not willing to be my friend?" I ask softly.

His red eyes meet mine and he raises his eyebrows. "Why, do you want to be my friend?"

"Why not?" I smile.

And then he does something I'm not expecting.

He smirks. His smile is not like mine at all, and I can't even begin to decipher it. I stare at him, tilting my head slightly, waiting for some explanation.

Without agenda, he turns and leaves the classroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I am thrown. I am more confused than I can adequately put into words.

I am intrigued.

* * *

I never thought I'd be the kind of girl who dreads Valentine's Day, but when I enter the Great Hall for breakfast on February fourteenth, the sight of pink hearts, heart-shaped candles, and Cupid fairies make my stomach clench painfully. I sit next to Rowan, who's winking and smiling at Charlie from across the room. She lights up with a huge smile when a little fairy drops a pink letter on her plate, and it doesn't quite leave her face for the remainder of the meal. Somehow, I can't help but feel a little sad, as if her smile is personally attacking me. I may be the one who pushed Barnaby away, but what wouldn't I give for an uncomplicated relationship right now, like everyone else? Or perhaps, simply, for an uncomplicated life?

Though I'm trying my best not to care, I can't help but sneak a peek at the Slytherin table, where I spot Barnaby sitting next to Liz, feeding her a spoonful of pudding.

"Argh," I moan, hiding my face on my hands.

February fourteenth may be just a date on a calendar, and it shouldn't make a difference because if you're in love, you should be in love every day of the year, but it seems to have a way of making people act foolishly. Even Twilight is acting all weird around the female owls, trotting around and preening his feathers, when I walk up to the Owlery to send a letter to my grandparents. I had written them a short note this morning, wishing them a happy Valentine's Day, while avoiding any detailed thoughts about the specifics of how they may be celebrating. I may want to know everything there is to know about everything, but some things are better off left in the dark.

Today is Sunday, and after breakfast, most everyone rushes off to Hogsmeade to enjoy the day. Wishing to avoid romantic scenes in Madam Puddifoot's, I opt to stay in the castle and find refuge in the empty common room. I cast a spell at the fireplace, bringing the fire to life, and curl up on the couch with no one but Rowena's statue to keep me company.

I think about how I haven't told Grandpa about my Animagus adventures, but I reckon it'd be unwise to tell him anything before having fully transformed. At least at that point, if he does not approve, I will already have the ability to do it. My thoughts meander from memory, to feelings, and then to ideas as my eyes get lost in the dancing flames.

I'm nearly asleep when the sound of wings by the window startles me, making me whirl around. The red eyes of the eagle meet mine and I inhale sharply, bringing my racing heart back to normal.

"Hey, Talbott," I say, returning my eyes to the fire.

I do not hear him transform, but the soft sound of his footsteps grows louder as he joins me on the couch, sitting down next to me with the lightness of wings.

"Hey," he says simply.

"I have never seen you in the common room before," I say.

"It tends to be really crowded."

"Yeah," I say. "I guess."

I risk a glance at him but his serene expression gives nothing away. He simply stares at the flames, just like I am. We sit there for a while in companionable silence as the fire burns the hours away, time becoming only an abstract concept. I'm sure that to someone else the picture of us, two people who barely know each other, sitting silently together would look extremely strange; but after a time of quiet consideration, I realize that although I don't know Talbott at all, it doesn't feel odd to sit beside him and revel in the quiet. It feels simply… comfortable.

We remain like this, lost in our thoughts, until hunger starts to gnaw at my stomach, reminding me that I am human. That outside this dome of silence which feels like the sweetest relief, life exists.

"Lunch?" I ask him, and he blinks his red eyes at me, as if leaving the clouds his mind was soaring through and landing back upon the earth.

"Sure," he says, his voice slightly uncertain, as if still finding his footing in reality.

I tie my messy hair up into a bun and grab my jacket, accompanying Talbott to the Great Hall. As we're climbing down one of the many staircases between our tower and the first floor, I manage to trip on a sleeping cat and miss the last three steps.

It's funny how so many things can flash before your eyes as you're about to fall on your face. Just as I'm wondering — in the blink of an eye —how I can be so freaking clumsy, I feel the grasp of Talbott's arms around me and fall ungraciously against his chest. Though I blush severely with embarrassment, his face remains as serene as ever. He steadies me back to my feet, placing a lock of my disentangled hair behind my ear, and blinks.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Athena."

He continues down the staircase, leaving me behind. I pause for the space of a heartbeat before following. The space, I think, seems shorter than I could have imagined.

* * *

It's strange to feel so invigorated after everything that has happened, but the Dreamless Potion has allowed me to rest without fear of falling into gory nightmares. So, when I finally open my nightstand drawer to collect a spoonful of dew, the perspective of becoming an Animagus brings nothing but warmth to my heart.

"They did it," Bill says, sitting with us by the lake that Sunday. "Dad wrote me today… The Ministry erased Mr. and Mrs. Long's memories."

" _What?_ " Tulip shrieks. "Why? How?"

"They were Muggles, after all." Bill shrugs, his face looking uncharacteristically serious. "It was easy. They were threating to go public… the Ministry had to silence them."

"Just because they wanted to expose our world?" Tonks asks. "Sounds a bit extreme."

"The Ministry isn't made up of only sweet Aurors and kind directors," Charlie says. "Dad says they do whatever they have to, to maintain order."

"So Mr. and Mrs. Long don't even know what they've lost," I say slowly. "Because they don't remember they ever had kids."

"Precisely," Bill says.

I sigh, blinking in the bright sunlight. The day is too bright, too shiny for this. The sky should be roiling with clouds. "This is wrong."

My eyes drift to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where Professor Vector is walking along the perimeter while Madam Hooch flies over the trees. Apart from Penny and Rowan, none of my friends know about my efforts to become an Animagus. I'm still not sure if I can trust them, especially after Professor Snape said that a student might be working for Rakepick.

Not that I can really bring myself to imagine that it could be any of my friends.

* * *

With the Ministry way of solving problems in effect, everything appears to be back to normal. Even Nora's friends seem to be acting like nothing ever happened, and it disturbs me deeply. I see them waltzing around the castle, laughing and talking, as if their friend hadn't taken her own life a scant few weeks before.

Rakepick doesn't seem even slightly bothered by Nora's death either. She's still walking around like the Mighty Ranger of Fucking Nothing, not breaking any curses that I can see, while the deaths of two children hang over the castle like an invisible cloud — smothering me at every step, even if no one else can feel it. I can't help but to agree with Professor Snape: she cannot be trusted.

Penny flashes me sweet smiles from time to time, and as I fully appreciate her sweetness, I can understand why Talbott allowed himself to escape the loneliness for a while in her company. She's so incredibly kind — even when she's being creepy or mysterious — that it's easy to be comfortable around her. Of all the people in this castle, I suspect Penny's heart is the purest.

We start learning about Shrivelfigs in Herbology, and I realize Professor Sprout completely forgot about Tonks' test after what happened. Tonks seems to have noticed it too, trying hard to be as gentle as possible with her plant.

"Can someone tell me where this plant is from?" Professor Sprout asks, and Rowan raises her hand. "Yes, Miss Khanna?"

"From Africa."

"Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw. And can someone tell me its primary purpose for cultivation?"

This time, I raise my hand.

"Miss Lockhart?"

"It's used for potions and medicines," I say. "Its leaves have medicinal properties, whereas the fruit contains an inner blossom that can be used in many potions, such as the Shrinking Solution and the Elixir to Induce Euphoria."

"Very good," she says. "Another five points to Ravenclaw. Because of the Shrivelfig's many uses in potions, it has become a favorite of your Potions master."

I suppress a giggle, imagining Professor Sprout and Professor Snape casually discussing their favorite plants over dinner.

"The fruit color is gorgeous," Tonks says, picking one up and examining it closely. "I wonder if I can make my hair look like this…"

As we are picking the fruits, skinning them, and collecting the blossoms hidden within, I notice something rather small and papery-looking hanging from a thin branch on Rowan's Shrivelfig, just poking out from behind a leaf. I take a closer look as she skins her fruit and my heart starts to race in anticipation.

I smile.

I take a careful look around before removing the chrysalis from the plant and placing it inside an empty flask in my bag. I'm one step closer to becoming an Animagus, and it brings me so much joy that I spend the rest of the lesson smiling.

* * *

The remainder of February passes as swiftly as the beating of wings. When the full moon finally rises into the cloudless sky, I slip away from my classmates as we file out of North Tower after Astronomy and set out to meet Penny in the courtyard.

"Ready to take the Mandrake leaf out of your mouth, Athie?" she asks with a soft smile.

I can see she's a bit amused, but in truth, I've grown so used to it, I've nearly forgotten it was there. But either way, I'm now one step closer to my goal.

"Finally," I say, gently removing the leaf from the underside of my tongue. "This magic is really weird."

"But it will be worth it," she says. "Now put the leaf inside this phial with one strand of your hair."

I do as she says, having to curl the long strand of hair to make it fit.

"Hand me the dew and the chrysalis," she says, and when I hand the ingredient to her, she mixes them inside the phial and allows the moonlight to shine over it.

The phial seems to momentarily spark in the light, and she slips it into my pocket.

"Take this to a dark and quiet place where it won't be disturbed or touched by sunlight."

I nod, gripping my hand tightly over the phial, feeling its counters through the cloth as excitement builds within my chest. The feel of adventure.

"Penny," I say in contemplation, as we walk back to the castle. "Why is Talbott so… odd?"

Her smile fades and she sighs.

"Tal has many secrets," she says. "He's been through many awful things. Just like you, Athie. But unlike you, he wanted to deal with them alone. It's still hard for him to trust anyone else. Don't worry about him. When he realizes you're trustworthy, I reckon you'll be able to bring him back to the light."

I take my Dreamless Potion before bedtime, thinking about Penny's words. It's sad to think that there are countless other people going through the kind of pain I've felt, or worse. I have no idea what Talbott has been through, but if it caused him to isolate himself, I can only imagine how terrible it must have been. I don't know how I'll manage to crack the barrier he has put up between himself and the world, but I'm sure I could be a good friend to him, if nothing else. Even if I'm having trouble trusting people myself these days.

I smile in spite of myself. Perhaps we could bond over that — our mutual lack of trust.

I carefully place the phial with the Animagus mixture into the top drawer of my nightstand, wrapped in my scarf. Then I spell it locked, just in case. All I have to do now is wait for the storm… though the following week seems cursed with sun. Cloudless skies and starry nights are on the forecast daily. I perform the Animagus spell every dawn and every dusk as instructed, but the electrical storm seems nowhere to be found.

Over the course of the sunny week, I constantly find myself daydreaming, repeatedly losing track of my classes. I try to focus, but when I break out of my dreamlike state and into reality, I often find myself doodling Nora's face on the corner of my notebooks. For some reason, even though she wasn't my friend, and even though I barely spent enough time with her to fully memorize her features, I can't seem to forget how blissfully relieved she looked when she let out her last breath in my arms.

"Athie," Rowan whispers halfway through Transfiguration on Thursday, placing her hand on my arm.

I glance at her, startled, and she reaches out to wipe away a tear that's rolling down my cheek.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I lie, turning back to watch Professor McGonagall write across the chalkboard. The sooner the storm comes, the better. I will do whatever I can to make this right. Nora… will not be forgotten.

Walking from the class to class with the bright sun shining above the castle makes me feel dismayed. I should feel happy and energized. If my life was simple, uncomplicated, I would not be constantly longing for rain. But how can the sun shine so brightly when it has been just a few short weeks since Nora's innocent light winked out? I cannot control the weather, but I yearn for the skies to open up, to shake with thunder, to let free their tears. For Nora. And when it does, that is when I will soar on the wings of her memory.

But it seems, for now, Nora's ghost will keep hiding in the light.

Friday dawns upon us, bright and sunny, making Matt exceptionally happy to train.

"Relax, Matt," Link says. "Our next match isn't till May."

"Yeah?" Matt says, heading towards the pitch. "Just so you know, May is right around the way."

"Taking up poetry, Matt?" Liam mocks.

They all burst out laughing, but I don't join in, lost in thought. Something else is also just around the way: summer. Along with it comes the fear that there won't be any summer storms this year, and that I'll have to continue casting the Animagus spell until I die.

Every time I train with the boys these days, I feel progressively more guilty for making us lose the last game. Though I love Charlie, and it's nice that he won, that win will probably secure the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor this year, and I feel like I've failed Matt for it. Especially considering that this is his last year at Hogwarts. I can't help but feel that I've taken something away that he can never get back.

The sky is beautiful, clear, and full of stars when I leave the dungeons that evening. Professor Snape spent the lesson teaching me how to brew a Sweet Healing Potion. It's supposed to heal small injuries, cuts, abrasions… I wish it could heal broken hearts.

Another dreamless night brings a little more peace to my heart. The following morning, Twilight drops a box full of chocolates on my plate. Holly's handwriting is always enough to make me smile, and the taste of her flawless chocolate is better than any potion.

"Holly is amazing," Rowan says, grabbing a bonbon filled with nougat from my box before I can so much as offer. "She should sell these."

I spend the morning inside, crafting a response to Holly. I can't help but glance around occasionally, looking for those enigmatic red eyes. But the common room is full and rowdy today, and I know Talbott would never choose to wander around inside it. Perhaps he is in some forgotten corner, or soaring through the skies, searching for silence.

It's lunchtime when I finish the letter and roll up the scroll, sealing it. Everyone has disappeared to the Great Hall and it's a lonely walk to the Owlery, but I don't mind. I've come to appreciate the solitude.

Twilight is eating when I slip into the tower and gets terribly excited when I take a treat from my pocket and offer it to him. I rub his feathers, wondering if Talbott has ever tasted bird treats.

"There's a storm coming."

I hear his voice, but I don't jump. I find that I'm not surprised. Perhaps a small part of me expected him to be here. Was hoping for it even. I turn around to see him sitting on the edge of a tall window, backlit by the sun. The sky stretches out below him, but there is no fear in his eyes. But then again, why should you be afraid of the sky, if you can soar?

"How do you know?" I ask.

"I can feel it in the air," he says, and when I look overly impressed, he smirks. "There's a black cloud in the horizon."

"You're making jokes now," I say. "Does that mean we're friends?"

He looks away.

"Okay, then," I say, handing the letter to Twilight, who clamps it in his beak and soars swiftly through the window, out into the sky.

"Don't bother getting to know me, Athena," he says. "There's nothing worth knowing."

I look at him. "People are always worth knowing."

"Even Merula Snyde?" He raises his eyebrows.

I head to the door, pausing on the threshold with a sigh.

"Yes," I say, glancing back. "Even Merula."

He eyes me intently, his gaze unblinking. I stare right back, until a bright flare of light streaming in from the window forces me to glance away.

"Leave your broom under your bed," he says.

"Why?" I ask, but when I look back up, he's gone.

As if this castle didn't have enough secrets… now I have Talbott, and his mysteries.


	78. Year 4: Chapter 26 - Bird's-eye View

**A/N:** Hi, guys! So sorry that I'm not posting on Monday as usual. I'm really busy at work, but don't worry, because I won't forget about this story! Firstly, I wanna thank my incredible _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ). Go check out her stories, because they're awesome! Also, I wanna thank **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **serendipitymadness** (check out her Hogwarts Mystery story too!), and **Charlotte** , for the sweet, sweet reviews! You guys are awesome! But let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Six – Bird's-eye View**

* * *

At first, I think I'm dreaming. There's a gentle sound of feathers and the beating of wings, and I can swear I'm surrounded by birds. The sounds I'm hearing, however, seem to get louder by the second, until I finally open my eyes to the darkness of my dorm and see a pair of glowing red eyes cutting through the black.

He is fast as a blur. I nearly cry out in surprise, but before the sound can shatter the silence of the dorm, he transforms back; falling over me, placing his hand over my mouth.

"Shhh," he says, before gently freeing my lips.

"Talbott!" I whisper, exasperated. He rises gracefully to his feet and stands next to my bed.

I am thankful for the darkness, because he isn't able to see the red spreading across my cheeks. The last time a boy was this close to me, it was when I was kissing Barnaby at the New Year's party.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"The storm is almost here," he says calmly. "Grab your broom and meet me on the roof of the Owlery."

I have to rub my eyes several times to make sure I'm not still dreaming, but the memory of drinking the Dreamless Potion makes me quite certain that this isn't a fantasy. I step into my shoes and slip a jacket over my silk purple pajamas, then grab my broom from beneath my bed. I glance back to make sure none of my roommates are awake. The room is still, filled with the sounds of their even breathing, so I step carefully onto the window ledge and leap into the midnight air.

There are dark figures walking along the forest's edge; the teachers tirelessly making sure no one else meets a fate like Julian's. I hug the castle's walls as I fly so they don't see my silhouette soaring across the night sky.

Talbott is already waiting for me, perched on the roof as casually as if its second nature to him. And, well, it probably is. He offers me his hand and I step towards him, leaving my broom secured against the sharp angles of the sloping roof. I risk another step, searching for a more stable foothold, but my foot slips. Talbott keeps his hold on my arm, anchoring me to the roof before I can slip away.

"Holy Houdini!" I gasp. "What if I fall?"

He looks at me with serenity.

"Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?" he says, but his voice is quickly muffled by the sound of roaring thunder. "Quick. Grab the potion."

I withdraw the flask from my pocket, marveling at the sudden bright scarlet of it.

"It's perfect," Talbott says. "Now remember, you may experience some fiery pain and intense double heartbeat. Don't try to resist. Allow yourself to absorb it while envisioning the animal you wish to become. Don't panic, or it all could go terribly wrong."

"Jeez, Talbott," I say. "Thanks for the pep talk."

He grins before turning away from me, his eyes searching the sky.

"Here comes the first lightning," he says. His hair is flying furiously around his face as the wind picks up, and his eyes are positively glowing with excitement in a way I've never seen.

I barely have time to think about not panicking as lightning strikes one of the towers, not far from where we are. I nearly jump, but Talbott grips my shoulder and looks at me with fiery red eyes.

"Cast the spell."

I touch the wand to my chest, its tip searching for my heart.

" _Amato Animo Animato Animagus._ "

A familiar warmth blossoms inside me, spreading through all of me, basking me in courage.

"Now drink the potion," he shouts over the growing wind.

I open the flask, downing it all in one big gulp.

"God, it tastes awful!" I gasp.

"It's the chrysalis." He shrugs, glancing at me with a curious smirk. "Now, visualize your inner animal, Athena!"

I close my eyes, feeling the distinct second heart beat to life inside me, enveloping me. The sound of it pounds in my ears, overwhelming everything. A sudden, stinging pain pierces my back. I swallow hard, gasping, trying to accept everything and embrace it all with arms wide open. The pain grows, overtaking me. The world is black. The pain is everything.

All my senses are gone. I don't know where I am anymore. Whether I'm standing. Sitting. Flying. I am being pulled. Squeezed. Ripped apart.

And suddenly, out of the black, the image of Twilight bursts into bloom, shattering the darkness. I feel his grace, his freedom; the qualities I have envied him for longer than I can recall. How wonderful it would be… to spread my wings and fly…

The pain slowly dissipates, melting into the night. I open my eyes to see Talbott's scarlet eyes peering into my own.

"Did it work?" I ask.

"Only you can answer that. See if you can transform."

"And how do I do that?"

"Like you just did," he says. "Visualize."

An odd sensation takes control of me when I close my eyes again; a burning desire to spread my wings and soar. I sincerely hope this means I've actually become a bird and not something useless, like a maggot.

I open my eyes again, but everything seems to be different. From where I'm standing, I can only see Talbott's calves, but it's easy to look up and see him peering down at me, absolutely beaming. His face seems magnified, as if I'm seeing it from close up. He also seems much more in focus than usual, his face carved in details I've never noticed before. He withdraws something from his pocket and turns it toward me.

A mirror.

The reflection is filled with white feathers and insanely big blue eyes. I blink to make sure it's actually me. When I try to say something, I produce a soft hoot.

 _A Snowy Owl._

The thrill of excitement that shoots through me is nearly too big for my tiny body to contain.

I try to shift my eyes to look at Talbott again, but I can't seem to do it. I turn my head instead, staring at him.

"Owls can't move their eyes," he says, as if reading my mind. "That's why they can turn their heads 270 degrees. Now, why don't you try flying?"

I have to experiment with my wings first, gently moving them as if I'm moving my shoulders. I feel my feathers rubbing against each other, and I smile at the thought of them being _my feathers_. I spread them, feeling the night air slipping underneath. The sky is calling.

It feels beyond easy to simply leap forward as I tuck my feet closer to my body, allowing my wings to spread. To beat. It is not a skill; simply instinct. I do not have to learn, because _I know_. The owl knows.

I circle the Owlery, seeing the dark clouds and the lighting striking in the distance, the night as clear as day. On the ground far below me, I can hear the scurrying of tiny feet making their way through the grass. Calling to me. For a moment, I nearly lose myself in the lure of the chase. I want nothing more than to shoot down to the ground like a bullet, to scoop up the mouse in my claws… oh, how good it would taste as I bite into it, its warm blood gushing over my beak…

I can feel the owl taking over, her senses enveloping my own, pulling me deep within herself. With an effort of will, I pull myself slightly out, separating our two hearts, but the temptation of flying away and embracing everlasting life as an owl is huge. I manage to return safely to the roof, and I visualize my human form until I am nothing but a girl once more. Talbott looks at me with an amused smile and grabs my arm when I lose my balance again.

"Why did you visualize yourself as a bird?" he asks.

"I told you," I say, fixing my hair. "I think they're marvelous animals."

His smile broadens and I notice his canines are slightly bigger and more pointy than usual. Nevertheless, the smile makes him look a lot less serious and brings a touch of light to his eyes.

"How did it feel?" he asks.

"Honestly?" I say. "It felt divine."

"Come on," he says, taping me on the shoulder. "I'll race you to the Quidditch pitch."

He's faster than me, swiftly transforming into the majestic eagle and spreading his wings to the night sky. I follow him, enjoying the sensation of turning back into an owl. The beating of my wings, I notice, is almost inaudible, whereas Talbott's wings sound like thunder.

As expected, — eagles being one of the fastest birds in the world — Talbott gets to the pitch quite a bit before me, and by the time I finally transform back, he's already lounging in the stands, waiting for me.

"Flying is exhausting," I say, rolling my shoulders and stretching my arms.

He smiles. "You'll get the hang of it."

"I've never been to the pitch at night before," I say, taking a moment to look around as my breath mists before me in the night air. "It's beautiful."

"It's peaceful," he says.

I sit beside him, listening to the distant rumbling of thunder as the wind blows our hair around our faces. From where we're sitting, I can see dark clouds hovering around the tallest towers, and I wonder if Rowan is having trouble sleeping through the storm. But even though the sound is bone-deep and slightly scary, I agree with Talbott —being in the dark, surrounded by the cloak of night, is more peaceful than I can describe. I yearn to see it on a clear night, when the skies are quiet and alight with stars.

"Thank you, Talbott," I say. "For teaching me how to become an Animagus."

"My pleasure, Athena."

"My friends call me Athie," I tell him. "So, if you ever decide to be my friend, you could call me that as well."

He shrugs. "Maybe I should call you Bubo."

"Bubo?" I frown.

"It's the genus of the Snowy Owls," he says. "They don't have blue eyes, though."

"Golden eagles don't have red eyes either," I point out.

"Touché, my dear." He smirks.

"Will you ever tell me why you became an Animagus?" I ask.

His smirk fades and he stares intensely at the forest in the distance.

"I didn't do it on a whim," he says finally. "My parents opposed the Death Eaters in the Wizarding War. They weren't in the Ministry or any special organization, but they wanted to help fight You-Know-Who and his followers."

He sighs, looking tremendously nostalgic.

"My mum was an Animagus, so she taught me how to become one," he says. "Just in case I ever needed to escape."

His red eyes meet mine and he flashes me a sad smile.

"When the Death Eaters finally came to our home, changing forms helped me get away." A spark appears in his eyes. "My mum and dad… didn't make it."

I place my hand over his.

"I'm so sorry, Talbott," I whisper.

"That's why I'm unregistered," he says. "My parents insisted. If I had registered as an Animagus, the Death Eaters might have known. They would have caught me and killed me too. And then my parents' sacrifice would have been all for naught."

"They sound like really brave people," I say gently.

"They were. Sometimes I wish I was more like them. Brave enough to face the world. But I'm constantly afraid of everything that might happen. Even with You-Know-Who gone, I'm still scared."

"You'd be a fool if you weren't," I say. "It's a dangerous world we live in, but that's why it's so important to have friends with you. We can have each other's back, no matter what."

"We?"

"What?" I raise my eyebrows.

"You said 'we,'" he says.

I smile.

"And I meant to say it," I tell him. "Let me be your friend too, Tal. Even though this school is drowning in perils, we can always make it better."

"You're a remarkable girl, Athena." He smiles. "Thank you for wanting to be my friend."

"Thank you, Tal," I say. "For showing me freedom."

I have wings now. And they beat like a heart.

* * *

There are no words for how marvelous it is to soar through the chilly midnight air, spreading your wings and gliding across the sky. I spend hours lying awake that night, reliving my few winged minutes again and again before sleep finally claims me. Flying with my own wings felt like nothing I've ever felt before, and the sensation was just as magical as the process of becoming an Animagus. There is a brief spark within my darkness. For the first time in a long time, I feel blessed.

Rowan asks me to show her my owl form when we finally get a moment alone in our dorm next day. She applauds me for a long time and even asks to pet my feathery body. It feels odd to have her hands all over me, and the owl within me shies away from her contact, retreating to the inner confines of my human soul. It makes me wonder if that's how Twilight feels… when I almost squeeze him.

It's tempting to transform a hundred times on Monday. I yearn to fly from class to class, but I have to maintain normality and pretend I'm not an unregistered Animagus. And to think that after all the rules I've broken and all the things I've wrong, doing illegal things had never crossed my mind.

* * *

My Quidditch mates seem to be getting more and more anxious as the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match draws nearer. Though I'd love to see Charlie win, I'd also love to see Ravenclaw get the Quidditch Cup again. Being torn between these feelings is awful, so whenever I feel the slightest twinge of guilt, I think of how I can transform into an owl, and everything gets immediately better.

I seize my free time the following Thursday to put all my essays and studying in order. I look for recluse in the library, surrounding myself with stacks of books, notebooks, and rolls of parchment, and throw myself wholeheartedly into my work. Occasionally, I get up to grab another book to reference, but these excursions are short, and I am back before long, determined to finish all my work in good time.

The sound of the chair beside me creaking in motion makes me raise my head, thinking I'll meet one of my friends' eyes, but instead I meet Merula's amethyst irises.

"What are you doing, Lockhart?" she says with disdain.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I raise my eyebrows. "What do you want?"

"An update on your search for the Cursed Vaults." She crosses her arms, looking incredibly arrogant.

"Why do you even care, Merula?"

She smirks. "Madam Rakepick wants an update on your progress."

"You're working for Rakepick now?"

"I do what needs to be done." She shrugs. "You have no idea what's going on in this castle."

"Look, I'd love to be enlightened by your wisdom, but I need to study," I say.

She stands up, placing both hands on the table, and I notice her fingernails are painted with a very dark, purple lacquer. Her eyes, outlined by their usual smudged eyeliner, stare me down with intensity.

"You'll see the light soon enough, Lockhart," she says. "One way or another."

She doesn't stay to see my jaw dropping. She can't possibly know how much it pissed me off to be threatened by her and Rakepick. I have to redo my entire Potions assignment after she leaves, because I keep applying unnecessary pressure to my quill, staining the parchment with angry ink blots.

* * *

"Your writing sounds angry," Professor Snape says when I hand him my assignment next day during our private lesson.

"I _am_ angry," I say, slicing several maggots without mercy.

"Do I want to know why?" he asks, his tone both flat and serious.

"I'm being threatened!" I say, annoyed, throwing sliced maggots into the cauldron. " _Again!_ "

"By whom?" he asks with a frown.

"Why don't you ask your darling Slytherin students, professor?" I say, perfectly aware that I sound both obnoxious and petulant.

He doesn't tell me to watch my tone or look at me with irritation. Instead, he grabs a spoonful of quartz sand and tips it into the cauldron.

"So, Miss Snyde is working for Rakepick now," he says, meeting my eyes.

"You're reading my mind again!"

"Once again, you are practically screaming your thoughts," he tells me, eyeing me calmly. "Learn to close your mind, Miss Lockhart. Do not wear your emotions on your sleeves. Or they may seep into the cauldron and contaminate your brew."

I seethe, though the anger is slightly punctuated by wondering if Professor Snape _actually_ made a joke. Regardless, I say nothing else until our lesson ends, at which point I grab my things and stalk off to dinner in a sulky silence.

It annoys me to no end that Merula has managed to take from me the bliss of becoming an Animagus, because now all I'm thinking about is her and Rakepick! Will our rivalry never end? And to make it all _even better_ , as I'm about to turn into the hallway that leads to the Great Hall, I meet the last pair of green eyes I ever wanted to see.

Rita bloody Skeeter.

"Athena, my darling!" she cries, pulling me in for an intoxicating hug that smells of sweet perfume and ink, and makes me want to scream.

"Don't call me Athena," I manage, still trapped inside her embrace, wondering if it would be too impolite to simply push her away. Do I care?

"I haven't seen you in ages!" she says. "Tragic thing, what happened between you and Miss Long. I wanted to write an article about it, but your sweet father asked me to leave it alone for now."

"How kind of him," I say with cynicism, finally managing to extract myself from her claws. I haven't thought of my dad in a very long time, and the sight of Rita's huge engagement ring makes me want to vomit.

"How have you been?" she asks. "It's _such_ a shame that Jacob is still missing. Did you miss me?"

"What are you doing here?" I ask, placing my hands on my hips.

"I'm writing a book about Hogwarts." She puts on a huge and disturbing smile, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth framed by bright purple lipstick. "I've returned to uncover the last of its dark, juicy secrets."

I wonder if it would be wrong to intentionally vomit on her ridiculous four-inch heels. She'd probably get it off quite easily with a Scourgify though, so it seems like a wasted effort.

"Then you should go and check Rubeus' turnip patch," I say instead. "I've heard there are a lot of Bundimuns in there. They're very dark and juicy."

Her smile broadens and I wonder if she likes my sassiness. Perhaps I should start being helpful and obnoxiously sweet.

"I'd really love your help as I scavenge for information," she says. "Dumbledore asked me to take you with me when I conduct interviews here."

Why, Merlin? _Just why?_

"Why?" I say, echoing my brain.

"I have long since abandoned any hope of understanding that man's baffling thought process," she says. "Anyhow, you're the perfect companion considering the subject of my book."

"Do I want to know what it's about?"

I suspect I really, really don't.

"It's about Hogwarts becoming a breeding ground for curses, dark creatures, and unstable witches and wizards," she says with a smirk. "I'll share a first-hand account of its most dangerous elements with my rabid readers. When they read of the extent of this institution's deterioration, they'll demand that the Headmaster step down immediately."

"But I suppose you're not going to be mentioning Julian or Nora," I say.

"You're absurdly clever, Athena," she says. "I assume you're already well informed about what's going on at the Ministry. No, I won't add anything about the Long twins, but I will, however, write a juicy article about Kettleburn's loose chimaera."

"Sounds thrilling," I say sarcastically.

"Oh, come on, my dear," she says. "Don't tell me you didn't wish this place was normal, so that you could enjoy your magical education without students dropping dead left and right and giant spiders haunting the forest."

I shrug.

"You're about to witness history, sweetie!" She smiles. "The beginning of the end of Hogwarts."

And with the obnoxious clicking of her heels tapping against the stone floor, she whirls around and walks away, her flawless curls bouncing against the dark green of her perfectly-pressed outfit.

I curse. Could this week get any worse? Was it really less than seven days ago that I soared through the night sky with the wind beneath my wings? Perhaps I'm due for a refresher, before I entirely lose my mind.


	79. Year 4: Chapter 27 - Vampires Will Never

**A/N:** Hi, guys! How are you? Here I am, with another chapter for you guys. Firstly, I wanna thank my incredible _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's also a wonderful writer and I greatly advise you all to check her stories. I also wanna thank **Poppy** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **Charlotte** and **serendipitymadness** (who's also writing a Hogwarts Mystery story) for all the wonderful reviews and messages. And I'd like to answer **Poppy's** question, of which animal I'd like to be if I became an Animagus. Well, I think I'd do the same as Athena. I'd want to become an owl. Maybe a Great Horned Owl, like Twilight. What about you guys? I'll love to know your answers! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven – Vampires Will Never Hurt You**

* * *

"Just what this castle needed," Rowan says, flopping down on my bed. "Curses, students with Sleeping Beauty syndrome, and Rita Skeeter. Sounds like the perfect way to drown us in madness."

"How could my dad fall in love with her?" I moan, hugging my pillow.

"How can her parents love her?" Rowan replies.

This almost makes me laugh. "I wonder if she ever wrote an article about them," I ponder. "Mr. and Mrs. Skeeter set loose a Fire Crab!"

"Their breathtaking daughter, Miss Rita Skeeter, the wonderful writer of this article, affirms that she cannot believe she shares a gene pool with such imprudent sorcerers," Rowan continues.

"The same writer announces that she's just released a brand of obnoxiously stinky perfume called _Eau de Rita_!" I giggle.

"Buy one today, and you'll receive a brand new Dungbomb for free!" Rowan says with a laugh.

"It smells just like Rita's talent!"

Once again, I feel my mind being split by divergent thoughts. Rita's presence only seems to make it harder to trust everyone around me, especially the one wizard who I thought everyone could rely on: Dumbledore. But if I cannot trust him, how am I supposed to trust anybody else… like the amazing and fun friend lying beside me?

I glance at Rowan, feeling a terrible sting in my heart, and wonder if there's a secret hidden behind her dark eyes. She means more to me than the world. I wish to believe that our friendship is pure, and strong enough to overcome anything. But I have kept many secrets from her, and I wonder how many she has kept from me.

"Did you realize how much we've learned, while doing research for the Vaults?" she says with a pensive smile. "I mean… we studied Centaurs, and Nifflers, and many spells and potions."

"Yeah," I say, hugging one knee. "But it was an awful way to bring us more knowledge."

"I know, right?"

She giggles, and I smile sadly.

* * *

Rowan's talk about studies has made me realize that there's still so much about the Forbidden Forest that remains unknown. I know that there are werewolves, Centaurs, and flesh-eating-mushrooms living amongst those trees, but there's also a dreadful creature that I haven't studied yet.

Acromantulas.

The giant spider that killed Julian Long is probably still there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for another easy victim. I feel silly for not having read about them yet. They are crucial to my quest, and if I'm to trek into the forest again, I'll need to know how to face them.

Before bed, I grab my copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , searching through the beasts whose names begin with A. I swallow hard when my eyes land on the eight-eyed monster that was illustrated by Newt Scamander. My palms begin to sweat as I spot words like "monstrous," "pincers," and "poisonous." Not every bit of information is particularly useful — the fact that they're from Borneo won't help me defeat them — but knowing that they're carnivorous, prefer large prey, can lay up to one hundred eggs per mating session, and are believed to be wizard-bred are is far more interesting. When I read about their ability to speak to humans, my eyes widen in dread.

Somehow, knowing that they can communicate with us and chose to devour Julian anyway makes what they've done that much more horrible.

The section closes out with a commentary on their size: " _humongous spiders_ ," writes Newt conversationally. " _Can be quite dangerous when threatened. They do not generally posses a kind disposition. Do not approach if possible."_ I tighten my grip on the sides of the book, making the page wrinkle.

Rumors of an established Acromantula colony in Scotland are unconfirmed.

According to what Grandpa told me, Rubeus was expelled for raising an Acromantula in the castle — though it was also believed that he had a connection to Moaning Myrtle's death. I close the book, dropping it on my bed, and walk to the window, where I rest my elbows on the sill. My eyes trail across the grounds, which are shrouded in darkness, until I spot a fragile light glowing in the windows of Rubeus's hut.

Never in my wildest dreams, would I have pictured him as a dangerous person. Though he's very tall, and may look somewhat scary behind all that bushy hair and beard, to me he has never been anything but gentle. _A gentle giant._ Those crinkly beetle-black eyes don't seem to hold any anger or danger, but then again… how much do I actually know about him? If he's even a tiny bit like Barnaby — and I do suspect that he is — he could've possibly released the Acromantula into the forest to prevent it from being executed. And if that spider found a mate… if it laid more than a hundred eggs, it would make sense that now, nearly fifty years later, there could be monstrous spiders lurking behind those haunted trees.

I rest my chin on my hands, remembering when Rubeus saved me from the Devil's Snare, when I helped him rescue Fang… I _know_ that I'm being too quick to judge him — especially when I was the one who hated being judged when I first stepped foot in this castle. Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps, and it's a big perhaps, I could just ask him about it. Even if he didn't do anything, at least he'd be able to provide me with some more information about the spiders.

* * *

Next day, I slip down to Rubeus's hut before dinner. I have bookmarked the chapter about Acromantulas and prepared several notes and questions I need to ask him, most of them written hastily into the margins of the book. The evening is calm and chilly, and I cross my arms for warmth as I hurry across the lawn. The edge of the forest seems to be calling to me, and I find myself watching the trees looming nearer, barely acknowledging my steps. As I get closer to Rubeus's hut, chills run down my spine as I realize how close to the forest he actually lives.

Light peaks out from behind the curtains of his hut, and as I get nearer, I hear voices drifting toward me. Crossing the pumpkin patch, I see a familiar red-head descending from the sky.

"Hello, Miss Lockhart," Rakepick says, landing her broom in my path and shaking out her bright hair. "I can't believe you're planning on entering the forest like this, in plain sight."

I refrain from rolling my eyes. She is smirking at me, but I simply ignore her. She walks to me, holding what seems to be a very expensive broomstick, and shifts her eyes to look at the book I'm holding. I barely have time to protest, because her movements are so swift, and she grabs it from my hands and opens it to the page I've marked.

"Acromantulas, huh?" she says with a smirk. "You know, Miss Lockhart, I still cannot figure out why you insist on declining my help. We both know you want to find your brother, and we both know that I have the means to make it happen."

"Then make it happen, Rakepick," I say sharply. "Finish this Curse before it finishes us all. Looking for apprentices is about as useful as riding a slug."

Her smirk disappears, and she hands me back my book, the corners of her mouth twitching with irritation.

"At least let me teach you a spell that could help you with your quest," she says disdainfully, climbing back on her broom. " _Arania Exumai_. Great way to repel those dreadful creatures you plan on fighting."

"I don't plan on fighting anything," I say. "Thank you, but there's nothing you can teach me that I can't learn by myself."

"Spoken like a true Ravenclaw," she says. "You'll soon learn, Miss Lockhart, about the importance of humility."

I grin, ready to tell her to fly back to whatever dragon's nest she came from, when Rubeus's front door opens with a bang and a woman dressed in neon green steps out, looking very much like a sparkling beetle.

"Athena, my dear!" Rita Skeeter says, waving her clawed hand in my direction. "Lovely to see you here!"

Rakepick flashes me an intense stare before taking flight, leaving me alone with my whimsical soon-to-be stepmom. Rita Skeeter walks to me, her high heels sinking into the fluffy terrain.

"I didn't know you were so fond of Patricia Rakepick," she says with a wide smile. "I assume you've read what I wrote about her in the article about Julian Long."

"I did," I say.

"I don't think she likes me very much after what I said about her," Rita says, winking at me. "Well, what's a wonderful journalist to do but tell the truth, right, sweetie? That _is_ my duty, after all."

"So, you don't mind making enemies?" I wrap my arms around the book.

She smiles. "Not at all, my dear. In fact, I have _just_ visited your friend Hagrid, to ask him some questions for my book. As a matter of fact, I'd love to collect some information about Patricia Rakepick from you as well, sweetie."

I glance at Rubeus's hut, wondering what kind of information he provided this awful woman. It's tempting to drag Rakepick down the drain, but I've never been the kind of person to play dirty. Even when it came to Merula, I didn't like to play by her rules. In the end, I simply look at Rita Skeeter in bored silence and flash her a patronizing smile.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" she says, smiling widely to reveal a mouthful of very white teeth. "It doesn't matter. I have my own means to put an end to this school. It's doomed anyway. Have a lovely evening, dear."

I clench my jaw as she fixes her crocodile bag on her thin shoulder and flashes me one last phony grin. She stalks off across the giant pumpkin patch, leaving me alone with my thoughts… and the realization that with Rita Skeeter in the castle, it may not be the best of ideas to ask Rubeus what he knows of the forest's Acromantulas.

The walls have ears… and Rita Skeeter has ears, eyes, and a very, _very_ big mouth.

* * *

The fact that Rita Skeeter is back to torment everyone seems to be leaving a stressful atmosphere over the castle. The professors are trying to avoid her at all costs; Professor Flitwick is even locking his classroom door between classes to prevent her from entering unattended, and Professor Snape is crankier than ever — mainly because he's trying to avoid drawing her attention — so he is giving detentions galore and taking away house points.

"The last thing I need right now is my face stamped across the front page of that horrid newspaper," he tells me on Monday during our private lesson.

As I work, my eyes drift to the little charm on my bracelet; the potion bottle he slapped there without my permission. I wanted so badly to take it off and throw it away, but something seemed to prevent me. I keep dwelling on the fact that he betrayed my trust by reading my mind, but I know I also betrayed his by not returning to the castle when I had the chance. If it wasn't for him, I'd have had to bring Julian's body back by myself, along with Tulip's unconscious form, and we probably would have ended up in tremendous trouble. If the school was so quick to blame Rubeus for Myrtle's death, they'd probably be even quicker to blame me for Julian's. After all, I'm the troublemaker who's been messing with the Cursed Vaults, not to mention the sister of the boy who, in their eyes, tried to destroy Hogwarts.

In between dumping ingredients into the cauldron and chopping a tiny pumpkin, I risk a glance at Professor Snape. He's deep in concentration, smashing some brownish beans, and doesn't acknowledge that I'm studying him. After all these years of knowing him, I've come to the conclusion that I don't actually know him at all. The fact that he desperately wants to teach the class that Professor Avalon is teaching, that he can read minds with ease, and that, though he's very young, he already holds a lot of grudges in his heart, is probably more telling than anything of his dark past, and yet it tells me very little. All of that is just a glimpse of what might be hiding behind his obsidian eyes. Nevertheless, one thing I'm absolutely sure of — and it sort of brings a smile to my lips — is that he worries about me.

After the lesson I stroll to the Great Hall to have dinner alone, but before I reach the door, I'm intercepted by Charlie and Rowan. Their hands are clasped tightly together and there's sparkling lip-gloss all over Charlie's mouth. However, there's something about their eyes that tells me they are somewhat concerned. In Charlie's hand, I can see a small strip of parchment.

"Hi, guys," I say. "What's going on?"

"I found the Gryffindor sigil," Charlie tells me, looking all mysterious.

"Really?" I say, lifting my eyebrows. "Okay, so now we have three out of four."

"The Slytherin one is still missing," Rowan says. "But Barnaby doesn't seem very engaged in finding it."

From where we're standing, I can see Barnaby heading to the Slytherin table with Liz by his side. She throws her head back and laughs joyfully at something he said. I roll my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest, and sigh.

"Anyway," I say, "what does the Gryffindor sigil say?"

Charlie unrolls the piece of parchment and reads aloud:

"Even the brave must sometimes lock their fears away. Unfortunately, those fears propagate in darkness."

"None of these sigils say anything even a little bit positive," I say, feeling somewhat resentful. "When are things going to get normal again?"

Rowan rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "When were things ever normal around here?"

* * *

After the gloominess of February, mounting excitement steals across the castle again as the fourth Quidditch match of the season draws near: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Charlie's confidence is pretty much intact, given that he has secured two wins for Gryffindor this year. I'm still resentful that I didn't catch the Snitch when we played against Gryffindor. Charlie is an amazing Seeker, and it's obvious that he'll win again and Ravenclaw will finish second.

On the day of the match, I eat my breakfast feeling a bit dismayed. Rowan is sitting beside me with oblivious excitement, wearing Charlie's Gryffindor top hat, with nails painted in bright red. Tulip is wearing Tonks's yellow beanie, ready to root for Hufflepuff. I, on the other hand, don't really know what to do. So, I simply eat my toast in the most mechanical way, wash it down with a cup of tea, and follow my friends to the pitch.

As I'm trailing them, a few paces behind, I begin kicking at a small rock that's found its way across my path. My feet kick it through the dry winter grass, until it tumbles into some random hole in the ground. I sigh, lifting my head to see how far I am from my friends. When I look back, all I see is the lone path along the castle wall from where we came. I contemplate simply turning around and hiding out in the common room, and then wonder if not going to the match would make me a lousy friend. I should go. Go and root for my friends. It would be the right thing to do. I sigh and speed up, returning to the path. _Just go, Athena. Go there, and stop being so whiny._

A hand suddenly closes around my arm, stopping me in my tracks. It pulls me to a tight space between the stone wall of the castle and a tall shrub of winter-blooming flowers. My heart races with the irrational and unforgiving thought that it might be Barnaby, but the eyes that meet mine are red. Talbott.

"You don't seem too thrilled to watch the Quidditch match," he says with his usual serene face.

I sigh as my heartbeat returns to its usual rhythm. "Not particularly."

"How about a little… _flying_ instead?" he says, and a smirk appears on the corners of his lips.

I lift my eyebrows. "Right _now_?"

"Why not?" he says. "Everyone will be at the game. We could even fly to the forest if we wanted to, and no one would see."

My eyes widen as his words sink in. I look down the path that leads to the pitch, picturing the teachers that are probably already there, watching the match _. Maybe even Rakepick and Professor Snape._ Rita Skeeter is probably there too, trying to uncover all the dangers of Quidditch… which leaves the way to the forest practically clear. My eyes move to the bracelet around my wrist and then back to Talbott.

"Let's do this." I say with stony determination.

He lifts an eyebrow.

"Let's fly to the forest," I clarify.

"In… the middle of the morning?"

"Yes! Don't you see? It's the perfect moment to look for the arrowhead! You're a genius, Tal! Everyone'll be at the game and the forest will be unguarded!" I say, a big smile forming on my lips.

I see his thin lips changing from surprise to a mischievous smirk. He glances around to make sure no one is watching. Satisfied, he winks at me, then grabs my wrist and pulls me to the path that leads to the Owlery.

Aside from the owls, the tower is silent and empty. There are feathers on the floor, and Twilight is sleeping with his head under his wing. I slip off my bracelet and leave it under the pile of branches and leaves above which Twilight is napping, then glance at Talbott. He seems excited to return to his Animagus form — his shoulders have relaxed and there's a clear smile on his face. He flashes his red eyes at me, and I can see the flicker of excitement within them before he lets out a breath and leaps forward, momentarily soaring without wings, before he morphs into the eagle.

I take a deep breath before closing my eyes and picturing myself back in the sky. The sensation of freedom is the first thing that hits me, overpowering my body with chills that feel more amazing than foreboding. I release my breath as I feel the transformation take hold, enjoying and accepting every feeling, until I finally open my eyes and see the world of the owl.

She awakens within me in that moment, her heart bursting to life.

Fly. I can hear her calling out to the freedom of the air. _Fly_.

Talbott throws his eagle body into the sky, spreading his wings to soar once he clears the tower, and I follow him. Though he's faster, he slows down to follow me so that I can show him the way. From where we are, we can see that the game is beginning. The stands are crowded, and there are flags fluttering in the breeze that helps us soar, while the students yell in excitement. I ignore the fact that I should be there, focusing instead on the edge of the tree line. Already, my sharp owl eyes are searching out the glade that will lead us to the Red Cap den. Something inside of me awakens with every beat of my wings. I don't need Rakepick's Niffler to find the arrowhead. And I don't need Rakepick to teach me how to repel spiders. I've got _myself_. And now, I've got Talbott... and _that's_ all I need. I'm going to finish this quest just as I started it: no longer alone, but entirely without her help.

There are no teachers patrolling the edge of the forest, no Rakepick hovering above the trees with her expensive broom. There's only peace and tranquility. The trees are silent, concealing the darkness of the forest. They do not betray that just a few short weeks ago, a life was taken within their midst.

For the owl, reaching the glade is as easy as breathing. I step out of her embrace when I touch down upon the forest floor. She will be there, waiting, lest I need to escape.

The forest doesn't seem so scary in the middle of the morning. There's sunshine flooding the ground, pushing away the shadows of the swinging branches. Talbott lands on a branch and transforms back, skillfully leaping to the mossy ground as his talons become feet. He takes out his wand as I reach for my own. Today, we are prepared for whatever may be lurking in this forest.

Finding the way back to the Red Cap den is easy, and it feels safer with Talbott by my side. With him, somehow, there is no guilt. If anything goes wrong, at least we can rely on our ability to transform into birds and, quite literally, fly away from this damned place. As we slip into the den, I notice the bloodstain is still there upon the ground, though it has faded over the weeks between. Aside from the passing of time, from the beams of sun filtering into the cave, nothing has changed. If not for the sunlight, I would be stepping right into the nightmare of my memory, and it leads me to believe that Professor Snape must not have told the school where he found Julian. If the Ministry had searched this place, they would not have left anything behind. All these objects, these baubles, these pieces of long-forgotten collections would probably be locked away in the Department of Mysteries or elsewhere in that building.

My breath is caught in my throat now, jumbled up with the memories that are threatening overwhelm me. Memories of blood, and a broken body, and lifeless eyes. I push them away with everything I have.

"The thing you are looking for," Talbott says, casting an orb of light into the dimness of the den, "are you sure it's in here?"

"No," I say. My voice shakes a little bit and I take a deep breath and steal myself before continuing. "It could be anywhere. But I don't know. Something inside me keeps bringing me back to this place."

He looks at me with a secretive smile. "Always trust your gizzard."

I almost snicker, the weight in my chest lifting just a little bit, and step forward into the den. I glance inside the treasure chests, through lost boots, within locked boxes. Talbott does the same, and hearing him moving objects around is strangely reassuring. I unlock box after box, sifting through all the trash within. I am temporarily drawn to a particularly shiny object, but it ends up being only a sparkling necklace.

"Nothing?" Talbott asks, looking inside a skull.

"Not yet." I have almost reached the small opening that led to the place where I found Julian.

I swallow hard, trying to shove back the feelings that insist on rising up within me, because I know that what we're doing here is the best chance we have of preventing it from happening again. The Vaults have shed too much blood, and if by entering a Red Cap den it means I can put an end to it, then that's what I'll do.

I push another box aside, finding another pile of skulls behind it, when a sudden snickering sound startles me, and I send all the skulls skittering across the ground. A Red Cap is standing by the small opening, glaring at me with vicious eyes. There's a sharp bone in its hand — which could easily be a human femur — that has a shattered side. It shakes the bone threateningly at me, yelling something in a language I don't understand.

I tighten the grip around my wand. " _Glacius!_ "

This must be the same Red Cap as before, and it seems to have learned from our last encounter, because it dodges my attack, jumps over a box, and launches itself in my direction. It leaps straight at me, bone in hand. Its other hand has only four fingers, which are curled into sharp talons reaching straight for my throat.

I stumble back, but one of its nails drags across my neck with a painful sting as it flies past. I lift my wand again, ready to strike, but before I have time to enunciate a spell, I hear Talbott cry, " _Depleo!_ " from behind me and a bolt of red light flies past my face.

The spell hits the Red Cap right in the face, making it start bleeding from all its pores, until all that's left is a huge bloodstain and a deformed pile of clothes and skin.

I watch the scene play out with wide eyes. It is akin to watching a horror movie; revolting and terrifying all at once. But I can't deny that it's also an incredible spell. I turn to look at Talbott, whose face looks impassive. His red eyes meet mine and he lifts his left hand to show me what he's holding.

 _An arrowhead._

"Talbott!" I say, my shocked face breaking into a startled grin. "Oh my God, thank you! _Thank you so much!_ Where did you find it?"

"Semi-buried under that pile of skeletons," he tells me, indicating a pile of what possibly used to be mice.

I nod, my eyes filling with tears that I can't quite explain. Perhaps it is simply because I'm one step closer to the end of all this. That this trek wasn't for nothing. Perhaps, this is relief. I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly. I can feel his whole body tensing, but I don't let go.

"Thank you, Tal," I say into his shoulder. "Thank you for saving me, and for finding the arrowhead… and for teaching me how to become an Animagus. Especially for that."

"Athena," he says seriously.

I let go, stepping back and watching how baffled he looks. It's actually quite cute to see him looking so out of place.

"I'm sorry," I say, drying a tear with the back of my hand.

"It's okay," he says, but his face sets into a frown as he looks me over. "Athena, you're bleeding."

"What?" I say, and he indicates the side of my neck where the Red Cap brushed against me with its claws. "Oh."

I touch the spot with my fingertips, which brings a painful sting to my neck. When I look at my hand, I see dark red blood staining my skin. I swallow hard, wondering if the cut is deep. Now that I've realized its there, I can barely ignore the painful throbbing in my neck. I can't imagine how I didn't notice it before. Talbott steps closer, looking at me with concerned eyes. He cups my cheek with one hand and rests the other on my shoulder.

"May I?" he asks, staring deep into my eyes with those dark red irises.

His eyes are so hypnotizing that all I can manage is a nod. The skin of his hand seems to burn against my flushed cheek, and I'm suddenly very aware of how frantically my heart is pounding in my chest, how shallow my breathing has become. Suddenly, I'm no longer sure if I'm blushing because of the fight… or because he's looking at me… looking at me like that, and... and…

He smiles in a way I have never seen him smile before, gently lifts my face, and touches my neck with his lips.


	80. Year 4: Chapter 28 - Friend or Foe

**A/N:** Hi, everyone! How are you today? Firstly, I'd like to thank my magnificent _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's also a wonderful writer and I'd advise you greatly to check out her stories. I also wanna thank my darling friend **lolabunny1992** for all the love and support. She also is a writer and is currently writing an InuYasha story called **Bleeding Love** , that I'm in love with. If you're into InuYasha, I totally recommend that you check it out. Last, but not least, I wanna thank all my wonderful readers for all the sweet reviews and messages. Thank you **FlaviaCoelho** , **serendipitymadness** and **Charlotte** , for being so supportive! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight** **– Friend or Foe**

* * *

Gryffindor wins. Charlie is exultant, and Rowan couldn't be happier. He managed to dodge two Bludgers that were shot directly at him by the Hufflepuff Beaters and grab the Snitch before Nate could even finish a whole breathing cycle. According to Bill, it was one of the most impressive moves he has ever seen, and the Quidditch Cup is a well-deserved award for Charlie's hard work.

It was expected that I'd feel envious of Charlie's fame and be jealous of all the attention he's getting, but I'm actually incredibly pleased that all eyes are on him and not on the long, pinkish cut at the base of my neck. My cheeks still burn when memories of how I received it come to mind.

At dinner, I place a small piece of salmon and some baby carrots on my plate, staring at the fillet as if it's going to swim again. My stomach is churning, and I think it's because butterflies have taken up residence in it once more. I'm confused; I don't know if I'm feeling weird because I might be developing feelings for my gloomy, lonely eagle friend, or because he unceremoniously learned over and drank my life's blood from my neck. I get chills just thinking about it, and I'm still unclear on how I managed to turn back into an owl and return to the castle.

There are so many questions crowding my mind, many of which I tried to ask Talbott as we were leaving the Red Cap den. He, however, had simply turned into an eagle and flown away, carrying away not only the arrowhead, but also all the answers to my questions and, perhaps, a little piece of my heart.

I don't tell my friends about the arrowhead right away. It's still safely hidden in the pocket of my coat, and I don't want to think about what comes next before I discover what's going on with Talbott. It's been only two months since I found out he even existed and now he's flying with me to dangerous forests and going all Dracula on me. I don't know what to think, much less what to do.

I wait until I'm back in the dorm and everybody is asleep before crawling into Rowan's bed to seek out her advice. She looks at me with her dark, clever eyes, and I realize she understands right away, because she quickly closes the curtains around us and casts Muffliato so nobody can hear our conversation. I silently withdraw the arrowhead and show her the perfectly sculpted ruby. Her eyes widen, and she frowns.

"Athie, I haven't been burying you in questions because I kinda wanna respect your privacy," she tells me. "I think it's healthy to have a few secrets… but you're actually making me worry. How did you get the arrowhead, why is there a cut in your neck, and _why_ do you look all flushed and embarrassed?"

"Row, I'm going to answer all these questions," I say, feeling my heart racing. "Because if I keep one more secret, I think I'm going to burst."

"I'm still willing to clean all the pieces of your brain and guts," she offers.

I snicker. "Okay. The reason why I have the arrowhead is because I went back to the forest to find it."

"You went back to that place?" she shrieks. " _Alone?_ _"_

"No," I say, feeling my cheeks burning. "I went with Talbott."

"Penny's weird friend that taught you how to become an Animagus?"

"That's the one."

"Okay, I see where this is going." She smirks.

"No," I say. "No, you don't. You see, we went to the forest and I was attacked by a Red Cap. That's the reason I have this cut on my neck."

"You were attacked?" she says in a high-pitched voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course I'm okay. I'm right here, aren't I? Talbott saved me. He used a very sinister spell, but you should've seen it, Row. It was incredible! Terrifying, but it was bloody awesome. And then he…"

"He…?"

I swallow hard. "The cut started bleeding… so he leaned over and… sort of… you know… He kinda… drank my blood."

Her jaw drops and she stares at me in complete disbelief, making me feel anxious and slightly embarrassed. I press my lips together as I wait for her to respond, but she simply continues to gape at me with wide eyes and a baffled expression.

"Rowan, say something!" I exclaim, anxious.

"I… I don't know what to say," she says. "I mean… is he like Lorcan d'Eath? _Is he a dhampir?_ "

"I don't know," I say, running my fingers through my hair. "This is so weird!"

"Okay…" she says, her lips curling into a devilish smile. "But was it good?"

I blush furiously.

"I don't know… I mean… Yes, it was very good," I say with a sigh. "It was like he was replenishing my soul, you know? When his lips touched my neck, I had this strange feeling that nothing else mattered… but us."

"Oh, so there's an us," she says, giggling.

"No!" I say abruptly. "I mean… I don't know. It's not like Barnaby… This is—"

"Barnaby?!" she exclaims, exasperated. She squints at me, frowning in contemplation. "Oh. Now I get it."

"There's nothing to get."

"That's why you've been acting so weird lately. You had a crush on Barnaby."

"I didn't have just a crush," I confess. "We had… a thing."

Her jaw drops again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I look away, unable to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Row. I didn't want anyone to know… I didn't plan to carry it on for too long. My main priority is finding Jake and ending this goddamn curse. _You know that._ "

"And can't you be a curse-breaker and have a boyfriend?"

I look at her again. "It doesn't matter anymore. Barnaby has Liz now."

"And, apparently, you have Talbott."

* * *

With the arrowhead safely locked in my trunk and the bracelet back around my wrist, things seem to get back on track. I told my friends about my quest to the forest but didn't mention Talbott's sanguinary inclinations towards my neck. I spend the following week trying to meet with him, but he seems just as ghostly as Nick or Helena.

March draws to a close, bringing with it a beautiful, sunny spring day. It's tempting to turn into an owl and soar above the castle and the lake, if only to appreciate the beautiful spring landscape, but the more I transform, the more chances there are that someone will find me out. My mind keeps circling back to Talbott, wondering where the hell he might be, and, as I settle on the lawn beside my friends, I can't help but sneak occasional glances at the Owlery.

"So, what's the next step?" Charlie asks, his arm wrapped around Rowan's neck.

"I'm not sure," I admit, watching the sun bounce across the shimmering surface of the lake. "It's tempting to run to the Centaur Camp and just look for the Vault, but that would be way too dangerous."

"More dangerous than everything else you've done so far?" Penny says with a smirk.

"Well, I think it isn't the wisest of choices to invade a Centaur Camp, given the fact that they'll be ready to shoot a bunch of arrows at me," I say.

From our vantage point, I can see Barnaby strolling along with Liz. They're sharing what appears to be a box of mints. When he sees us, however, he messes up her hair in a very friendly gesture and says something before rushing in our direction. I watch Liz return to the castle, happily skipping across the renewed grass.

"Lee!" Charlie says, giving Barnaby a high-five.

"Hi, guys," Barnaby says, his face splitting into one of his usual breath-taking smiles.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Rowan smirking at me. That's _exactly_ what I was hoping to avoid while I was seeing Barnaby, because I knew it would make things harder and more embarrassing.

"I found the Slytherin sigil," he tells us brightly.

"Finally!" Rowan says. "I thought you'd abandoned us. You know… you clearly traded us for Lizard."

"Anyway," he says, flushing slightly. "I found it inside a snake statue that I accidentally broke…"

"Accidentally?" Penny teases.

"I was playing with Sickleworth and then—"

"You were playing with Sickleworth without me?" Charlie says, offended.

"Okay, let's hear what the Slytherin sigil says," Rowan interrupts.

Barnaby grabs a piece of parchment from his pocket and hands it to Rowan.

" _I cannot resist the power, though it may kill us all. I am the only one I trust to wield it and not succumb_ ," she reads in a mysterious tone.

"So," Penny says into the ensuing silence. "Bartholomew ended up surrendering and accepted the power of the Vaults. If a powerful wizard like that couldn't resist it, what hope is there for us?"

"We won't succumb," Rowan says. "Because we want to find the Vaults to put an end to their Curse."

"Yeah, so did Bartholomew," Tulip says.

"Okay, and all the hope I had after finding the arrowhead is now somehow gone," I say, hiding my face on my hands.

"You _found the arrowhead?_ " Barnaby asks with a grin. "Without Sickleworth? _How?_ "

"I was lucky," I say simply.

Rowan smirks. "Yeah, lucky to have Talbott."

Barnaby frowns. "Talbott? The creepy bird guy that's always at the Owlery?"

"First of all, he's not creepy," I say firmly.

"Well, he isn't cute and fluffy either," Barnaby says sharply.

"Wow, wow, wow," Rowan says, raising her hands. "What's the matter with you?"

Barnaby rolls his eyes. "Nothing, I just didn't know she was going out with Bird Boy."

"Stop calling him that!" I exclaim, suddenly struggling through a whole set of conflicting feelings.

"So what should I call him? Your boyfriend?"

"Why do you even care? You're spending all your time with Liz!"

"Why do _you_ care? You dumped me!"

I stare at him in disbelief, the sudden silence looming between us like the ugliest monster. I clench my hands into fists and feel a vein throbbing on the side of my neck. I've never seen him get this angry, and I confess I wasn't prepared for that. Our friends are staring between us in shocked silence, and I cringe away from the realization that now they all know there was something between us. But I'm not ready to face the questions that may be forming on their tongues.

"I'm out of here," I say shortly, standing up and stalking away from them all.

Damn it, Barnaby. _Damn it._

* * *

The forest doesn't look nearly as scary or threatening during daytime. Especially when I'm stalking past it while feeling angry and dismayed. It's been four months since Barnaby and I stopped our secret trysts — because under no circumstances would I have called them "dating" — and I thought he was over me.

Apparently, he isn't.

Which leads me to wonder if I'm over him too.

"Hey."

I turn around, wondering if Barnaby is chasing me with a desire to apologize or have a reasonable conversation, but there's no one behind me.

I hear it again. "Hey. Hey, human."

I squint at the forest edge. " _Torvus?_ "

It _is_ him. I spot him standing in the shadow of a tree, semi-hidden by its bushy branches. The tall and imposing Centaur that has been helping sleepwalking students find their way safely back to the castle. With the quiver full of arrows and the severe expression permanently set upon his face, sometimes I forget that he has a big and kind heart.

"The planets have told me that you wish to talk to me," he says.

"That's an odd thing for the planets to say."

He doesn't reply.

"Okay," I say, feeling tremendously awkward. "Well, yes, I do want to talk to you."

"What about?"

"I found your arrowhead, Torvus."

He lifts his thick eyebrows. "Where was it? And, more importantly, where _is_ it?"

"It was hidden inside a Red Cap's den," I say quietly. "And right now, it's hidden inside my trunk."

"I want it back," he says. "If I return the arrow to my herd, they may allow me to live with them in our camp again."

"I know," I say. "And I'm sure they'll accept you back, but _I still need the arrow._ I need it to break the sleepwalking curse and find my brother."

He stares deeply at me.

"I will return it to you, Torvus," I say. "I promise. I just need you to take me to the next Vault."

His nostrils flare. "I will take you, but only if Hagrid agreed to accompany us."

I frown. "Rubeus? Why?"

"I will have to let him explain," he says seriously. "Bring him and do everything you can to prepare for the fight, Athena. If I were you, I'd focus on spells to repel spiders."

I shiver. "I'm sorry that I cannot return your arrow right now."

"It is fine," he says. "You have very noble reasons. Just like your brother."

And with those words, he vanishes into the shadows of the trees.

* * *

How I'm supposed to broach this subject with Rubeus, I have absolutely no idea. Rowan says I should just talk to him, but then again, she also said she's loving the love square between Barnaby, Liz, Talbott, and me, so I can't quite take her seriously.

"I didn't even know love squares were a thing," I said to her.

"Oh, they aren't. But they _will_ be when I release my novel about it!"

"Maybe you could cowrite it with my grandfather. He'd love to know that I've been rolling around with one guy and then having my blood drank by another one."

To this, Rowan had no adequate response.

I sent Rubeus a letter on Monday morning, asking if he'd like to have tea, but by the Astronomy ends, he still hasn't responded.

"Maybe he's too busy with the carnivore slug infestation," Tulip says with a shrug. She didn't ask me about what was going on between Barnaby and me, and I feel grateful for that.

We climb down the stairs and continue along to Ravenclaw tower, watching the rest of our classmates traipse along ahead of us. Between yawns, Tulips informs us that she's thinking of getting a toad and naming him Dennis. I see Zelda's hair floating out of sight as she turns a corner to step into the corridor that leads to our common room, Addison and the rest of the Ravenclaws right behind her. As we step to follow them, a clashing sound from behind me makes me whirl around, and my heart jumps to my throat.

I stare in frozen horror, my mind barely comprehending the scene in front of me.

"Tulip!" Rowan gasps, reaching for her wand, but a bolt of a foggy white light hits her, making her tumble to the ground beside Tulip. Both petrified.

"I told you death was coming, Athena Lockhart. Now it's here."

My soul seems to freeze as I find myself facing the Dark Wizard again. It has been so long since the last time I saw the dark red cloak that hides his body. I squint, trying to make out his face, but the shadows that enshroud it, black as pitch, seem to be the result of a spell. I raise my wand, feeling my heart beat painfully against my ribcage. I want to reach for my friends and make sure they're all right, but I feel that if I get distracted for even a moment, he won't be as merciful as to simply cast Petrificus Totalus on me.

"I don't want to keep fighting you! Just tell me what you want!"

"I already told you, Athena Lockhart. I want you dead."

I don't overthink anymore. My whole body seems to instinctively know how to proceed, even though my mind is rushing, and my heart is drumming painfully.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " I yell, but the Dark Wizard repels my spell. " _Incarcerous!_ "

His shield is irreproachable. I throw forth hex after hex, feeling my throat aching and the blood running furiously through my veins. He shields himself from every spell without speaking a word. Whoever he is, is very experienced in non-verbal magic.

" _Glacius! Petrificus Totalus! Flipendo!_ _"_ I run through my entire arsenal of hexes, pushing aside the fear that I may well lose this fight. No matter what I do, no matter what hex I cast, he is unmoved. " _Depleo!_ "

Not even Talbott's gory spell produces an effect. The Dark Wizard simply casts another shield, and I watch my hex shatter into curling wisps of red smoke.

" _Aqua Eructo!_ " I scream, shouting curses at random now. " _Wingardium Leviosa! Bombarda! Confringo! Depulso! INCENDIO!_ " I feel the memories of the other spells I've learned slipping from my mind like water. My hand trembles as I try to keep my wand steady, and I cannot believe that no one in this forsaken castle has heard our thunderous fight.

I'm about to cast all the bloody spells I know again, but I hesitate for just a moment, and it's enough for him to hit me straight in the chest with a bolt of orange light. I'm thrown back with tremendous force, and I feel my back and head hit the stone wall across the corridor. I shake my head through the sudden pain, trying to see through the fog that is now my vision, waiting for things to shift into focus again. I gingerly lift my hand and touch the back of my head, where a throbbing pain makes me wonder if I've cracked my skull in half. I stare at my fingers with wide, unfocused eyes, dark red blots swimming across my vision.

There is a sound, like a shuffle of footsteps, and I raise my head to watch the Dark Wizard step closer, wand in hand. And I know, even though I cannot see his face, that he's staring at me with deadly eyes. My fingers grasp for my wand, but I don't know where it is. I feel the hopelessness building inside me as he whirls his wrist to cast a spell, and I instinctively shield my face with my arms. I hear the gentle tinkling of my bracelet as it sweeps past my cheek, the charms knocking together, and I remember the enchantment that Professor Snape put upon it.

 _Please, find me. Help me. I need you._

The words are playing like a prayer across my mind.

"Goodbye, Athena Lockhart."

I see a blinding light flash across my flickering lids, but no spell strikes me. I hear another clashing sound and I slowly open my eyes, staring in shock at the crumpled form of the Dark Wizard splayed out across the floor.

"Are you all right, Miss Lockhart?"

I look up to see Patricia Rakepick strolling directly to me. She offers me a hand, pulling me to my feet, and casts the counter-spell to free Tulip and Rowan from the curse cast by the Dark Wizard.

"Who attacked us?" Tulip gasps, staring around with wide eyes as she rushes to help Rowan.

"I was wondering the same thing," Rakepick says. Gripping her wand tighter, she walks straight to the fallen wizard. " _Finite Incantatem!_ "

I stumble behind her on trembling legs, watching as the shadows that had prevented us from seeing the Dark Wizard's face begins to dissipate. My heart aches with the expectation as the fog finally fades, and my eyes widen as they meet a familiar face.

I gasp in shock as my heart beats violently, sending shockwaves through my whole being. I cannot reconcile my vision with my heart.

My soul is breaking.

His name is barely more than a whisper as it leaves my lips.

"Ben."


	81. Year 4: Chapter 29 - Beating Hearts

**A/N:** Hello, everyone! How are you doing? Just three more chapters and we'll be over with Athena's fourth year. What do you think will happen next? I've been watching the fifth-year gameplays and I'm still not sure what to think. I agree with some things, but others I don't feel like adding to my story. So, I hope you guys enjoy the changes I'm making. Well, as usual, I'd like to thank my magnificent _Beta,_ **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's also a wonderful writer. I wanna give a shout out to my darling friend, **lolabunny1992** , who's writing an InuYasha story. And I also wanna thank **serendipitymadness** (who just finished her first year of her Hogwarts Mystery story) and **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , for the lovely reviews. Thank you guys so much for all the support! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine – Beating Hearts**

* * *

"I knew it!" Rowan exclaims.

Ben slowly opens his eyes and blinks furiously as his stare focuses on me. "Athena? Where am I? What happened?"

"Now he's going to pretend that he doesn't remember anything… _again_!" Rowan says, exasperated.

"What do you mean?" Ben asks, his eyes sweeping frantically around the scene. "Why… why am I dressed like this?"

His eyes quickly return to me and I watch as they begin to fill with tears. I, on the other side, cannot cry. My heart is aching so much I can hardly bear it, and I feel my soul shattering into a thousand pieces. Rakepick doesn't lower her wand, though she glances at me as if she's silently asking me what I want to do. I don't respond. I can feel my knees shaking, and I suspect that if I stay here a moment longer, I will simply collapse to the floor. I turn on my heels and walk straight to my dorm in broken silence.

All my roommates are already sleeping, unaware of what has just transpired only several corridors away. I feel a little resentful of their obliviousness, but I manage to ignore the feeling and mechanically undress, putting on my pajamas as I slip into bed.

Rowan and Tulip don't return to the dorm. I lie awake until the first rays of light begin to seep into the room. When I finally sit up, their beds are still flawlessly made, and there's a bloodstain on my pillow.

I stumble wearily into the shower, feeling a sting when the water hits the back of my head. I find the courage to use _Episkey_ on myself, and when I touch the place where the cut once was, I feel only unbroken skin. There's no cut now, no blood, and no pain. Only the memories remain.

My reflection in the mirror looks as bad as I feel. Dark shadows are hugging my exhausted eyes, which are glowering with aggravation. I carefully comb my hair until it looks shiny and flowy, but nothing can fix the look of sadness that has seeped into the lines of my face. I leave the dorm, slipping through the common room. As I stalk past my fellow Ravenclaws, their bright eyes and content expressions make me realize that they still know nothing.

But they will.

And when they do, there will be chaos.

I skip breakfast and head straight to the dungeons. My steps are mechanical, and I'm not even acknowledging the outlines of the walls or the people around me. I simply climb down the stone stairs and walk instinctively to the Potions classroom. I don't even know why I'm here, but something inexplicable is pulling me to the room. Perhaps it is my anger.

I push open the door. Professor Snape is at his desk, rearranging a stack of books. I watch him in silence until he glances up to see me standing in the doorway. His eyebrows draw up in the faintest expression of surprise.

"Miss Lockhart?"

"Why didn't you come help me?" I say sharply.

He looks at me with a mixture of concern and confusion in his onyx eyes.

"I am not certain I know what you mean," he says, still watching me. "Is everything all right?"

"No!" I exclaim, my voicing rising with desperation. " _Nothing is all right!_ Everything is all fucked up and broken! And you — you put that goddamn enchantment on that goddamn charm, but when I was actually in danger, you weren't even there!"

His face stiffens and he walks to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"What happened?" he asks. "Did someone hurt you?"

I avoid his eyes, looking down as I feel the burning of tears. They spill from my eyes, hot and furious, making my nose sting, and I feel them running down my cheeks and falling to the ground. He doesn't say a word, waiting silently as I master my feelings. I'm not surprised, I did not come here to seek comfort after all.

"Are you hurt?" he asks me, when I finally manage to stop the flood of tears. I shake my head in silence. "Are you going to tell me what has happened, or do I need to read your mind?"

I swallow hard. "Just read it."

I raise my eyes to meet his, wondering how blotchy and puffy they are. I must look ridiculous. Nevertheless, my eyes meet his jet-black irises and he stares at me with intensity. I watch as his serene face slowly becomes intrigued and then fills with pure rage. The emotion is gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

"How much do you know?" I ask.

"Just enough," he says flatly. "Go have breakfast. I'll take care of this."

"I'm not hungry."

"Wait in my office then."

He directs me to the adjacent room, lifts his wand, and conjures a tray with an absurdly large sandwich and a cup of tea. Then he leaves the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stare vaguely at the crustless sandwich in front of me, and my eyes move to the steam that is swirling atop the cup of tea in hypnotizing spirals. I stare, trying not to feel, trying to ignore the pain that burns through my heart.

* * *

Rowan and Tulip spend the entire double Potions lesson shooting me anxious looks, seemingly bouncing with desire to talk. I focus on my potion, trying to overlook my curiosity and rely only on my knowledge.

I don't know if it was the talk during breakfast, because I wasn't present, but I can certainly see stares flicking in my direction and hear whispers that throw Ben's name to the wind. I hear Emma and Ruby discussing something about Ben's inclinations towards evil, but I don't make much of an effort to understand what they're saying. I don't know what Professor Snape uncovered while I was sitting in his office, nibbling at the edge of that humongous cucumber sandwich, for he didn't say a word when he returned other than to inform me that class was about to start.

Lunch tastes like cardboard. I notice that Rowan and Tulip are doing their best to contain their anxiety. It seems that every single person in the Great Hall is talking about Ben being a Death Eater and wanting to kidnap me, because apparently my brother betrayed You-Know-Who's trust. I eat in silence, because I know that if I open my mouth, no good will come out of it.

They manage to pull me to my brother's old hiding room before Professor Avalon's class.

"Oh my God, finally! I thought I was going to explode!" Rowan says, running her fingers through her long raven hair.

"So, Rakepick came and saved the day," Tulip says, rushing to tell me everything. "Then she took Ben to Professor Dumbledore's office and Rowan and me to her office. Then she gave us some cookies and asked us a bunch of questions."

"Of course, we said nothing about our quest and the Vaults," Rowan says. "But we said that we noticed Ben has been acting strange, and that he's been avoiding you all year long."

"She said she's going to investigate," Tulip adds.

"But we know she won't." Rowan sighs. "However, now there's a whole new shitload of questions!"

"Is Ben R?" Tulip cuts in. "Do you think he's R?"

"Is Ben _helping_ R?" Rowan suggests. "Why did he want to kill you?!"

"And then there's the main theory," Tulip says. "The one we came up with while Rakepick was talking nonstop about the dangers of the castle, and how much she wanted to talk to you, and blah blah blah."

"We think Ben was being threatened," Rowan says seriously. "I feel awful for thinking the worst of him, because he's our friend. There has to be an explanation."

"And that's one of our most terrible theories," Tulip says softly. "Maybe someone used _Imperio_ on him."

* * *

 _Athena,_

 _Tea on Thursday at 5?_

 _Torvus said you wanted to talk to me._

 _I'll be waiting with rock cakes._

 _Rubeus_

I'm clenching the letter as I make my way across the lawn to Rubeus's hut. So many things are rushing through my mind that I can't seem to focus on the simple task at hand: asking him to accompany me to the forest.

Yesterday, I nearly cried during the choir practice, performed awfully at Quidditch, and spent the whole private Potions lesson completely aloof. Professor Snape said nothing about my behavior and mentioned nothing about Ben or Rakepick. I'm not feeling nearly as curious as Tulip or Rowan. All I can feel is hurt and betrayal.

If Ben is truly working for R, or _is_ R, then my heart will irreparably shatter. If he's been induced into hurting me, then I don't know if I'll be able to finish this quest alive. There are moments when I want to just give up. To write home and tell Grandpa I want to leave Hogwarts. But then I think of Jake, and his presence pulls me just a little further along this treacherous path.

I reach Rubeus's hut and knock softly. He opens the door, clad in an apron and holding a tray full of insanely large biscuits.

"Athena!" he says with a smile. "Nice ter see yeh! C'mon in!"

I enter the hut, and he invites me to sit on one of the huge chairs around the table. I sit, my feet barely touching the ground, and he places a large, steaming cup of tea in front of me.

"I'm sorry to hear 'bout yer friend Ben," he says, sitting across the table and looking at me with kind eyes. "Are yeh okay?"

"I confess that I've been better," I say, resting my chin on my hand.

"Have yeh talked ter him?" he asks.

I sigh. "No. Not yet. I don't know what to think and even less what to say."

"Do yeh think he really wanted ter hurt yeh?"

I shake my head. "Something inside me tells me that there's something wrong. Ben would never hurt me." I think I want to believe that the words are true more than I know that they are.

"Well, then there's yer answer," he says with a smile. "Always trust yer gut."

"Or my gizzard." I giggle, and Rubeus frowns. "Never mind. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, Torvus said yeh wanted my help. How do yeh know him, Athena? Have yeh been wandering 'round the forest?"

All my trips to the forest flash through my mind, culminating with the image of Talbot approaching me in the midmorning sun. I blush.

"That's not the point," I say, hurriedly taking a sip of my tea. "Rubeus, you know that I want to find my brother. I'm the only one who can find him."

"Don't yeh think it's wiser to leave it ter the professors?"

"They aren't being very helpful," I say carefully. The words flood me with resentment, and I glance down, not meeting his eyes.

"Athena, be honest with me," he says, pouring more tea into my gigantic cup.

I hold the large cup between my hands and stare at its contents. The tea is a light pink hue, and there are several flower petals floating near the surface. The scent brings me comfort, and when I look at Rubeus, his beetle eyes tell me that I can fully trust him.

"Yes," I say, looking down again. "I've been wandering around the forest. I was there when Julian Long was found. I was looking for an object that can help end this curse, but"—I glance at him with steely determination—" _I need your help, Rubeus._ Torvus said he'll take me to the next Cursed Vault, but only if you come with us."

He blinks. "Athena, are yeh aware of how dangerous this is?"

"Yes," I say. "I'm perfectly aware. I'm also aware that there are Acromantulas living in the forest, and that one of them killed Julian."

Rubeus looks at me with guilty eyes. His hands squeeze tighter around his teacup and his foot brushes noisily against the rough wooden floor.

"It's okay," I say. "I know all about Myrtle Warren and the story of your expulsion."

He doesn't look at me. "Do yeh reckon I killed her?"

"No, Rubeus," I say, placing my tiny hand over his huge one. "I think you have a heart of gold. Unfortunately, this is how things seem to work around here. Julian and Nora died, and they erased their parents' memories. You were raising a dangerous spider in the castle, and they blamed Myrtle's death on you."

"Dumbledore allowed me ter stay here," he says with a sniff. "Hired me as groundkeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

I look away, my eyes drifting to the window. Though Rubeus has reasons to trust and love Professor Dumbledore, I have my own reasons to think he's trying to prevent me from finding my brother. It's almost like he prefers to pretend that the Vaults doesn't even exist.

I sigh. "Will you help me, Rubeus? Please."

He takes a big gulp from his tea, almost like he's considering it. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll help yeh. Yeh were there fer me when I needed yeh. Yeh helped me rescue Fang."

I look at the big sleeping dog on Rubeus's bed.

"Thank you, Rubeus," I say, smiling at him. "You are wonderful. Really."

* * *

The week ends, and I still don't see Ben anywhere. I haven't seen a trace of him since the Big Bad Thing happened. He isn't among his fellow Gryffindors when they pass, and he hasn't been attending his classes. The library has also remained woefully Ben-free. On Saturday morning, I find myself looking for him in the Artefact Room, but he isn't there either. Rowan is dying to ask him all sorts of questions, but all I'm longing to do is wrap my arms around him and hug him. And tell him I believe him. Because I don't know how else I can possibly move forward.

After my most recent failed attempt to track down Ben, I decide to spend the weekend in the common room. Everyone is excited about the trip to Hogsmeade, but I much prefer being alone right now. Rowan and Charlie want to visit the Shrieking Shack (and probably make out in there), Tulip and Tonks want to buy more prank supplies, and I'm sure Barnaby will enjoy the day with Liz. I shake my head to banish these thoughts as I see my friends out of the common room, then grab a book and lounge on the couch in front of the fireplace.

I'm reading about Acromantulas again. I also grabbed a book that teaches you how to cast _Arania Exumai_. I told Rakepick that I don't need her to teach me anything, and I _really_ don't. I've managed to learn a lot by myself, and there's no reason why I shouldn't be able to cast this spell without her assistance.

My eyes scan through the explanation, and I glance around, eager to find a spider to practice the spell on. And as my eyes slide to the window in search of some poor, unsuspecting arachnid, I notice a big red-eyed eagle observing me from the sill.

"Look who flew out of his nest," I say, feeling my cheeks burn as the eagle glances around with his sharp eyes to see if there's anyone else in the common room. "Don't worry. There's no one here."

A simple leap and a twist, and Talbott emerges in front of me. He's wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt, jeans, and Converses. His hair is pulled back as usual, but this time his face is not encased in its usual serenity. If anything, he looks tremendously embarrassed.

"Hey," he says, sitting down on the arm of the couch, opposite from me.

"Hey," I repeat carefully, unsure what to expect, but happy to see his dark-red eyes again after two weeks of nothing.

"Have you fixed the arrow yet?"

I nod. "It was very simple."

His gaze flicks to the open window, as if he's wondering if it's socially acceptable for him to just fly away and avoid this conversation after all.

"Are you going to leave?" I ask plainly. "Or are you going to stay so we can talk about what happened?"

His eyes flick back to me, and I notice he's a little bit flushed. "There's nothing to discuss."

"Tal, we need to talk about… _that_."

He doesn't say anything. For a few minutes he just remains there, still as a statue, staring at his hands.

"I'm sorry, OK?" he says abruptly, sliding down to the empty side of the couch, inches from my sock-covered feet. I can feel the tremors of the couch reverberating through me, and I inhale sharply. "I'm terribly sorry about… that."

"Why are you apologizing?"

He swallows hard. "Look, I know what you must be thinking. But I'm not a vampire. I'm not even a dhampir. But I… have an eighth of vampire heritage… Just enough to give me these red eyes, and these pointy canines, and… a slight desire for blood."

I watch him talk himself into silence, trying not to look overly shocked, though I worry my eyes may betray my feelings. He runs his fingers nervously through his hair.

"I'm not thirsty for your blood, and I won't randomly attack you, so don't worry," he says quickly, then looks away. "Though I must say that you taste incredible..."

I blush furiously.

He gets up. "OK, that was awkward enough."

"Don't go," I say, managing to find my voice as he walks back to the window.

"You can't possibly still want to be my friend after that," he says without turning around.

"I may not be a vampire, but I don't think I'm ordinary enough to judge you," I say, staring at my hands. "I like that you felt comfortable enough around me… to be yourself. And… it was nice… you know? Weird… but nice."

I lift my eyes to glance at him, but he's staring resolutely at the bookshelf behind me. His eyes look like rubies under the morning light, but nothing in them denounces that he, just two weeks ago, leaned toward my neck and lustfully placed his lips over my bleeding skin. The memory makes me blush immediately, but he doesn't seem to notice. I touch the line that was left by the cut, barely visible now, and wonder if the vampire kiss that he placed upon my skin somehow helped heal the wound.

"I don't think you're ordinary," he says, breaking the silence. "Ordinary girls wouldn't ask me to teach them how to become an Animagus... and they wouldn't fly with me during a thunderstorm. No, Athena. You're the opposite of ordinary."

My lips curl into a genuine smile, and when he finally looks at me, he smiles too. This simple gesture is enough to draw him closer, and he rests his elbows on the back of the couch. His eyes scan the page that I was reading and then focus on my face.

"Why are you studying the spider repelling spell?"

I shrug. "I might have to face some in the forest."

"Are you going back?" he asks me, and I nod. "May I go with you?"

"Tal… It would be incredible to have you there with me," I say, "but I don't want to risk your life."

He doesn't say anything; simply studies me in silence, and I feel my cheeks burning.

" _What?_ Are you going to tell me that there's nothing to risk, because you're a vampire and your heart doesn't beat anymore?" I tease him.

He lets out a soft laugh. "No. It beats," he breathes, and gently takes my hand and places it on his chest. Behind the fabric of his shirt, I can feel the furious pounding of his heart.

Our eyes remain locked for only a moment, but even the brevity of his touch isn't enough to prevent my heart from racing as well; from threatening to jump right out of my chest. When I first started hanging out with Barnaby, I didn't know what these sensations meant… but now… _now I do._

I can't keep pretending any longer.

I'm falling in love.

With Talbott.

* * *

I cannot lie to Rowan any longer. I finally confess everything when she returns to our common room that evening. She listens to me while anxiously biting her lip, as if she's waiting for me to say that Talbott and I made out the entire day.

"Oh my," she says, when I finish talking. "I must say, even though you could've enjoyed the day in more… _interesting_ ways than playing Wizard's Chess, I think I can safely assume that it was full of tension?"

"You've no idea," I tell her, unable to contain my grin. "I asked him if he was going to tell me more about himself. Then he said that if I beat him in chess, he'd do _much more_ than that."

"Who would've thought… He doesn't seem like the kind of guy that's full of sexual innuendos!"

I blush. "Then we spent the afternoon looking for spiders around the greenhouses and practicing _Arania Exumai_ on them."

She smirks. "Cementing your love by murdering helpless insects. How adorable."

I roll my eyes. " _Arachnids_. And it _was_ cute… you know? Friendly. But all the time we spent together, I could tell that there was something more."

She smiles now, the smirk gone. "I can see you're entirely smitten. How much do you know about him?"

"Hmm… that his Animagus form is an eagle. That he's an orphan and lives with his Muggle grandfather. His favourite colour is burgundy, and he's a big fan of Frank Sinatra, and he was born on January 17th, in the Capricorn-Aquarius cusp. Yes, I checked the calendar," I add, when her smile gets wider. "But even though I don't know everything about him, I really want to."

Rowan smiles more brightly than ever. I can't tell if she's happy for me or if she's simply eager to ask when I'm finally going to do something about it. Then her face grows uncharacteristically serious.

"Let me ask you something, Athie," she says. "How do think Barnaby will react after you told him this wasn't the right time to be in a relationship… and then suddenly you show up with Talbott?"

I stare at my nails, picking at the dusty rose coating. "I'm not going to show up with Tal. It makes me feel awful, honestly. I _know_ it's a bit inconsiderate of Barnaby's feelings. And besides, I don't intend to pursue a relationship right now. I still have a Vault to find. I still don't think this is the right moment to be with someone. I'm constantly conflicted, and Jake never leaves my mind. So honestly… I don't think that I'll be breaking Barnaby's heart, because I won't let him know that I have feelings for someone else."

"I see you've got this all worked out," she says, amused. "But that's OK, don't feel guilty… the heart wants what it wants, right? And anyway, I don't even know why I asked. I mean, Barnaby is obviously with Lizard right now, isn't he? His little tantrum was not only unnecessary for you, but also unfair to her. He's gotta make up his mind. Is he over you, or isn't he?"

Our conversation keeps me up for a good part of the night, long after Rowan has gone to bed. I try not to feel bad for letting my feelings for Barnaby fade away so quickly. I honestly thought I'd be in love with him for a very long time… But like Rowan said, feelings change. I tell myself that there's no reason to feel bad about it. Barnaby and I weren't meant to be. We have nothing in common, really, whereas he and Liz seem to have everything.

I probe my heart, trying to find the answers. But when I close my eyes, all I see is Talbott and his witty smirk.

And then my feelings turn, once again, to guilt.

My ever-familiar companion.

* * *

Too quickly, the weekend is over, and it takes all of me to avoid Barnaby's eyes once we're back in the rush of the castle. It's hard. He keeps staring at me during Professor Kettleburn's lesson, almost as if he's trying hard not to say something. Liz, as usual, takes careful notes and asks several odd questions, drawing smiles from Barnaby's lips. Strangely, I no longer feel jealous… but I have the woeful sensation that this realization might hurt him even more. I do not see Talbott anywhere — as usual — and it's probably for the best. Things would definitely get extremely more difficult if I could see him everywhere.

Divination is getting weirder by the day, and it's not only because Barnaby sits near me during class. Professor Trelawney is teaching us how to properly tie random herbs together and burn them so we can interpret symbols in the smoke. Before long, the entire classroom smells of burnt sage and rosemary. But the oddest part of it all is the shape that I see in the rising smoke.

"Looks like a beetle," Barnaby says, completely ignoring the smoke emanating from his own herb bouquet.

I frown, opening my book to check the meaning of the image. Divination always makes me somewhat anxious, and the clear image of the beetle makes me uneasy.

The beetle has many meanings. It can mean the path of transformation when it has opened its wings, or a wind of changes if it has a missing antenna. However, if the beetle has only one long horn, it is the ultimate symbol of treason and deceit.

I swallow hard. My head boils with questions, most of them regarding Ben. Did he really mean to betray me? Or was he being controlled by someone else, as Rowan and Tulip suggested? I think of his kind eyes and sweet laugh, and the latter makes more sense. Hogwarts has become an abyss of danger, and it was only a matter of time before something like this happened to one of us.

Barnaby notices my unrest, regarding me in silence for the rest of the lesson. He lays a hand on my shoulder as I step off the ladder that hangs from the trapdoor, and it retracts behind me. I am the last one down.

"Athena," he says, a serious edge to his voice, and I turn around to look at him.

We allow our classmates to drift away down the spiral staircase that leads to the main castle, and I rest my back against the stone wall of the tower and look at him. Perhaps it was foolish to think I could avoid this conversation. This problem.

"Are you OK?" he asks. "I read the thing about the beetle. I don't think you should worry about that. Beetles are cool."

I let out a dismayed snicker. "Though it's said that divination is an imprecise branch of magic, it has always been right for me."

He glances down, looking a bit out of place. "Athena, I… you know I'll be there for you, right? Even though things are a bit… gluey… between us."

"You mean _gloomy_?" I ask.

"Yeah, gloomy," he says. "Listen, I'm really sorry about what happened the other day. It was childish of me. I guess I'm just jealous."

"It's OK," I say. "But I still don't understand why you're jealous. You're dating Liz, aren't you?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Dating? Athena, Liz and I aren't dating."

"You're not?" I frown, looking over their interactions again in my mind's eye. "Really? But you _should_! You clearly like each other… and you look really cute together! And you have a lot in common, and—"

"Athena," he interrupts me. "Liz isn't into me at all."

"How's that even possible?"

He rolls his eyes. "Well, mainly because Liz likes girls."


	82. Year 4: Chapter 30 - The Beetle's Betray

**A/N:** Hello, everyone! How are you today? Firstly, I wanna thank my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ) for the marvellous work on this chapter. She's also an incredible writer and I greatly advise you to check out her stories. I also wanna thank **FlaviaCoelho** , **serendipitymadness** and **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** for the delightful reviews. I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying it! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty – The Beetle's Betrayal**

* * *

Just like that, Barnaby threw at me — as if it were a Quaffle or some such — the information that Liz is into girls. Along with it, he added that he's been avoiding spending time with me, for the single purpose of giving me the space and time I deserve. And as if that weren't enough, he decided — so conspicuously — to tell me that he still has feelings for me and is anxiously awaiting the day when the "never" and the "not now" will become: "meant to be together."

When he was finished with spilling this jar of new information all over me, he left for his next class. As if everything that has been my life as of late was not enough, now I have Barnaby and his undying affection back to torment me.

Not even the exhausting Quidditch practices are enough to make me forget his words. I spend the following days trying to suppress the whirls and twirls of my mind, and when Rowan tries to comfort me by saying that he'll eventually overcome it, I pray hard that her words will become law.

Along with the studies, practices and rehearsals, I've also been trying to find space in my mind to find a good day to enter the forest with Rubeus and Torvus. The seriousness of this task helps me focus on what truly matters. Once more, I come to the conclusion that the upcoming Quidditch match, at the end of the month, is the ideal time. Considering that exams aren't enough to occupy my mind, and that there's no way for Ravenclaw to win the Quidditch Cup, the only things left to concern me are Barnaby and the Cursed Vaults.

The following days flow swiftly as a river, and the process of waking up, attending classes, and studying seems mechanical compared to what goes on inside my head. That's why, on a very ordinary Thursday afternoon, I get a little intrigued when Professor McGonagall asks to meet with me after her lecture, looking all dark and mysterious. Rowan flashes me a concerned stare before heading to the library, and I wait for our professor to finish placing our assignments inside a well-organized box that she stacks atop another box. I worry that something else is lurking in the corners, just waiting to make my mind even more swirly and confused.

Professor McGonagall readjusts her glasses as she looks at me, her expression more severe than usual.

"Professor Dumbledore has requested to see you after this lecture," she says, motioning for me to accompany her.

"May I ask what it's about?" I ask, feeling my heart skipping a beat.

"I wasn't informed as to the subject of the discussion, though I have strong reasons to believe that it's about Mr. Copper."

I swallow hard. "Is Ben okay?"

"He is recovering," she says simply.

There are a million questions that I want to ask her, but they all seem to get stuck inside my throat. When we finally reach our destination, in front of the statue that guards Professor Dumbledore's office, Professor McGonagall looks at me with intensity, probably noticing my uneasiness.

"Acid pops," she says solemnly, and the statue moves to reveal the well-known spiral staircase.

I climb the first few steps and pause to glance back. She is walking away, disappearing down the long corridor. This is a journey I must take alone. I take a deep breath and continue my climb until I reach the office door, which is already open. When I cross the threshold of the office, something awakens inside of me, as if warning me that something is very, very wrong.

"Ah, Miss Lockhart," Professor Dumbledore says from his desk. "Please, come in."

I take a few hesitant steps until I find myself in front of his cluttered desk. His gorgeous phoenix is sleeping next to him, looking older and missing several feathers, but he doesn't seem concerned. In fact, when he glances at it, he looks almost amused.

"How have you been, Miss Lockhart?" he asks me.

I look around, uneasy. "Very well, sir."

"I realize that this hasn't been an easy year on you," he says, his eyes glistening from behind his half-moon spectacles. "Especially after the incident with your friend, Ben Copper."

I look down, silent.

"I must say, Miss Lockhart, that your suspicions are absolutely correct," he says, making me lift my head to stare at him. "It is only fair that we trust our friends. Giving them the benefit of the doubt is more than a matter of loyalty. It is a matter of love."

I let his words echo though my mind. They are, in truth, not so different from suspicious I've harboured already.

"Do you have any idea who's behind this?" I say quietly.

He shakes his head. "There is still so little that I know, and it is clearly no more than you have already learned. However, I _do_ know that you make a magnificent beetle, so you may as well reveal yourself, _Rita_."

I frown, confused, wondering if he has finally lost all his marbles.

"Excuse me?" I ask, but he simply smiles at me.

His bluish eyes waltz to a spot between several dusty books that are piled high atop his desk. I squint, trying to see what he's looking at, when I finally notice a tiny, iridescent beetle hiding between a dark-green book and a scroll of parchment. As if it's noticed our eyes, the beetle rushes to the edge of the table and rolls to the floor. As it does, it grows — becoming the awful blonde woman I've learned to hate.

"How did you know it was me?" she asks, dusting off her clothes.

"It is my very job to know things, and I'm quite good at it," he answers.

"Many people would disagree with that," she says with a smirk.

"You're an Animagus!" I say, and my tone rings like an accusation, but I keep going. " _That's_ how you uncover everything. You've been eavesdropping while hiding as a bug!"

"Clever as always, my dear. Brava! You probably know that I'd do anything to uncover the juiciest stories for my articles and my soon-to-be-published book."

"About your book, Rita," Dumbledore says, entwining his fingers. "I'd like to kindly ask you not to publish it."

"Why would I ever do that, Albus?" she asks with a snide grin. "My readers have the right to know about the dangers of this school. Hogwarts will be doomed before the last page is even printed."

"Brewing trouble again, Rita?" Dumbledore says softly. "It seems old habits die hard after all."

She laughs. "I am simply seeking the truth, Albus. Nothing more."

"Sometimes I wonder just how far you are willing to go, Rita… to get what you want," he says, his sparkling blue eyes flashing in my direction.

I look down, still flabbergasted, and squint at my shoes. My black loafers are looking rather opaque and could definitely use a bit of polishing wax. My dad, I recall suddenly, used to polish his shoes in the entry hall until they shone. And now I've let my own shoes go. But as I get myself lost in the scratches and lack of shine of the leather, many things begin to flood my mind, bringing theories and questions to the forefront that make my heart race.

And I realize something with an absolute certainty.

My father, after all, would _never_ cheat on my mother.

I _know_ him, just as I _know_ Ben.

And Ben would _never_ hurt me.

Never.

And he would never betray me either.

Ben… _is being controlled._

I feel as if there are splinters running through my veins. As if my flesh has been torn to pieces, leaving me cold and exposed to the truth. The realization stings and burns and, little by little, fills me with dread. I try to slow my heartbeat and even out my breathing as I lift my head to look at Rita Skeeter and her awful, bright red smile. She looks boldly into my eyes — devious enough to lurk in the shadows as an unregistered Animagus, yes, _but_ is she crazy enough to walk around casting Unforgivable Curses on people too?

She looks at me and her lips curl into an even bigger and more cynical smile as she raises her perfectly polished fingers to adjust her glasses. Unlike Professor McGonagall, she doesn't look wise or clever when she does that. She looks just… fake. However, her glowing eyes tell me that, even though she's crazy, she's not crazy enough to cast curses at people to get what she wants. She'd definitely make use of something more… sneaky.

My heart fills with despair, and before I'm able to hold my tongue, I speak.

"Professor, I'd like to see my father. Right now."

Rita frowns at me. "What's the need to disturb Christopher now, my darling? Your father is at work."

I ignore her. "Professor, is there a way to—"

He's already up, standing by the fireplace while murmuring something. Then he turns to a painting of an old wizard wearing a dark red cloak.

"Balthazar, could you visit your portrait at the Ministry and ask for Christopher Hodges? Tell him that his daughter wants to see him."

"Right away, Albus," Balthazar says, and then steps sideways and disappears from his frame.

I notice Rita Skeeter is looking at me with a rather annoyed expression, but I do my best to ignore her and continue to look firmly at Professor Dumbledore.

"Sir, do you happen to have Wiggentree twigs, castor oil, and extract of Gurdyroot laying around?" I ask, my heart racing.

His blue eyes spark in my direction. "Of course. Everything you need is in that cabinet."

I head straight to a wooden cabinet in the corner, near to a table full of mysterious objects, and grab all the flasks that I need. There's a small cauldron in the bottom shelf, and I take it to a free space on the floor and light a small fire underneath it. After that, the rest is mechanical.

"Whatever are you doing, Athena?" Rita asks me, her tone practically dripping disdain.

"Don't call me Athena," I hiss. "After today, you won't get to call me anything." _If I'm right._ A confirmation that I both dread and yearn for.

"If you're brewing poison, I must inform you that your father would be displeased if his daughter is trying to hurt his fiancée."

"If you had spent your years in this school actually studying instead of gossiping and spreading rumors, you'd know that I'm not brewing a poison."

She snorts and I focus on my potion, grabbing a spoon to stir it. My heart feels heavy as I ask myself what I'm going to do if my suspicions are correct. Rita Skeeter takes a few hesitant steps toward me to look at my concoction. I flash her a pair of flaming eyes and she steps back.

"Working as an unregistered Animagus might seem normal to you, and I bet you're proud of your ability to eavesdrop without anyone knowing. But Professor Dumbledore seems to have uncovered your secrets," I say recklessly, praying that he'll never uncover my secret as well. "Just like you uncovered many of Hogwarts' secrets. Do you know, my dear insectoid friend, what awaits you when everybody finds out that you're unregistered? From what I know, the sentence is some time in… Azkaban." My voice shakes, but I force myself to keep it steady. To keep going. "And I don't think you'd be able to get married while locked in a dark cell, _would you_?"

 _I am not Rita. I am not Rita. I am NOT Rita._

Her eyes blaze in my direction, as if daring me to continue, but I know she won't hurt me with Dumbledore in the room. I watch as the potion turns pink and reach for a bottle to fill it with my fresh mixture. There is a cup of tea standing on the desk, as if ready and waiting for this moment, and I pour a bit of my potion inside it, watching it mix with the amber liquid.

"What do you plan to do with that?" she says coldly.

"You find pleasure in exposing people, don't you?" I ask with a smirk. "But I bet you're not used to people doing the same to you."

A flash of dusty green swirls in the fireplace, and I watch my father stumble out of the flames and enter the whimsical office. He looks at me with curious eyes and I rush to hand him the teacup. Rita Skeeter makes several odd noises behind me, but none of them can be classed as words.

"Athena!" my father says, as if he can't quite believe his eyes. "Athena. What's happened? Are you hurt? Is everything okay?"

"Dad, we need to talk," I say hurriedly. "But before that, I need you to taste this tea. Tell me if it's too sweet. Professor Dumbledore thinks it tastes just fine, but I think it could use a bit more sugar. What do you think?"

He furrows his brow in confusion but takes a sip of the tea.

"I would say the sugar content is adequate," he says, putting the teacup down and staring at me once more. "Now, what's this about?"

At first, I think nothing has happened and experience some kind of painful relief mixed with disappointment. _She didn't do it after all._ _I was wrong._ But, suddenly, as he continues to look me over, his eyes seem to brighten, taking me back to childhood days spent in the bliss of naivety, with my family around me, laughing. Safe. Whole. His deep laugh echoes in my ears now, skipping across the intervening years, and I feel as if there's a giant hand squeezing my heart.

"Athena," he says again, his voice unsure. Shaky. "I… What's going on?" He looks around the office, confusion evident on his features, and his eyes settle on Rita. He frowns. "You…"

I snort, disgust and fury stealing through me as the full weight of my theories proved correct settles around us, and I whirl on Rita. " _I should've known!_ How could I have put it past you to do something like this?! You're low enough to bribe and blackmail people, so why not use Amortentia to get what you want too? Even if it meant breaking a family apart. Anything and anyone for your stories, is that it? You bloody disgusting cow! You—"

"Athena!" my father says, shocked.

Rita takes a step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a clear defensive state. "My dear, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit!" I seethe. "You relied on the fact that I was young and naïve and would be too hurt to question anything!"

"Athena, I don't understand what's happening," my father says, walking to me. "But watch your tongue, young lady. And what is it that I just drank?"

"Amortentia Antidote!" I tell him, trying to keep my voice from turning into a seething hiss. I whirl to face Rita Skeeter again, unable to contain my anger. "She's been _dosing you_ , Dad! This whole time! _That's_ how you managed to make him cheat on my mother! Isn't it? WELL?!" Rita steps back as my fury washes over her. My father simply stares, his mouth hanging open. "It's _your_ fault that she's dead!" I hiss. "All your bloody fault! _And_ you even found a way to separate me from my father. You _knew_ I'd despise your engagement and want to get away from you two. You got him all to yourself, just like you wanted! _Didn't you?_ The only thing I'm still trying to understand is… is _why?_ " My voice breaks, my anger spiralling out into the room. It weighs down the air, as thick as the silence that follows my rant of accusation.

She clenches her jaw, clearly furious. In the ringing silence that remains, she shifts her weight from foot to foot and flashes me a furious stare, chewing the inside of her cheeks as her red lips curl in disgust.

And then it hits me. It hits me like a broom barreling straight towards the Whomping Willow with no way to stop. And the nausea of the impact leaves me cold.

"You did it because he's the director of the Animagus Registry Department," I say, my tone not even a question. "Unbelievable. You'll do whatever it takes to save your own skin, and damn anyone who gets in the way."

A loud sound makes me whirl around and I see my dad, his tall form sagging into a chair as he drops his face into his hands. The teacup is spread across the floor in broken pieces, the remains of the liquid seeping into the rug. I cannot see his face, and from his loud breathing I don't know if he's sad, angry, or a combination of both. Professor Dumbledore, on the other hand, looks impassive as usual, staring at Rita Skeeter with the calmness of a crystalline lagoon.

Thoughts and realizations whirl in my mind like a windstorm, fighting with each other as they threaten to overwhelm me.

Professor Dumbledore _didn't_ call me here to talk about Ben. He did it because he _knew_ Rita Skeeter would be lurking in his office, since he never agreed to be interviewed by her. He asked to see me, because he knew that after what happened to Ben, the suspicions would grow inside of me. But he did nothing and said nothing about it. He let me figure it out by myself. Why?

Rita Skeeter chose Dad, the Director of the Animagus Registry, as her victim. She _knew_ that if she had him under her claws, he would say nothing about her being an unregistered beetle. Not to mention the access that dating someone high up in the Ministry could provide. Dad has friends in every department. Even the Department of Mysteries.

She's probably been giving him Amortentia for a long time, maybe even before Mum was sent to the Muggle psychiatric ward. Rita Skeeter is probably the reason why it all happened _. Everything._ The father I know would _never_ do such thing. He loved my mother deeply and would never hurt her. I was shocked, _shocked_ when it happened. When I found out he was seeing her. Even Grandma could not believe it of him. But Rita Skeeter planned everything… maybe not my mother's death, but she certainly took it in stride. She certainly made my own father ship me away to live with my Muggle grandparents. She did it to get rid of me, so her path would be clear.

And if Rita Skeeter is using Amortentia and not an Unforgivable Curse, is it still possible that she's R? If so, _why_ was she controlling Ben and _why_ does she want to kill me so badly? I still don't have the answers for that at all. But even if she's not R, I'm sure she's dying to get her hands on me now that I've exposed her. And now…

"What do you want to do now, Miss Lockhart?" Professor Dumbledore asks, breaking the silence.

I stare at him, my mind still swirling with a frenzy of revelations. "What do you mean?"

"Shall we expose Miss Skeeter, as she would do to us?"

Images of Rita Skeeter trapped in Azkaban for all eternity bring me more than joy. However, having her under my claws seems better than revenge. I look at her, a smirk settling on my lips, and she returns my gaze, for the first time, with a tinge of fear.

"You're not going to expose me, are you, my dear Athena?"

"No," I say, my words colder than ice. "I won't. You'll still be very useful, someday. However, you shall leave this castle immediately and burn everything you already wrote about this school. If you fail to do these things, I'll expose you mercilessly and you'll spend the rest of your miserable life in Azkaban."

She swallows hard, and I withdraw my wand from my pocket, aiming it at her. She takes a hesitant step back.

"One more thing," I spit. "If you ever come near my family again, I'll make sure you regret every breath you ever took in your damn life. I may be young, Miss Skeeter, but I'm not a fool. I'm more than capable of ending you. I have you wrapped around my fingers now, and I'm ready to play. But the question is, are you?"

I feel the bittersweet taste of victory when she looks at me as if she's about to cry and storms out the door. Like a mouse who has just skirted the claws of an eagle. Like a beetle, who has so narrowly avoided being swallowed by the owl. But the owl… is still watching. With eyes as sharp as steel. I let out a breath, slipping my wand back in my pocket, as I wrestle for control over my feelings. I turn to face Dad, who is looking at me with forlorn eyes and despair etched into the lines of his face.

"A-Athena," he says, his voice trembling.

He stands up, his shoulders betraying just how much he's feeling lost. I look at him, at his sad but handsome face, and remember how things used to be before Rita Skeeter showed up in our lives. We were so happy, and things were so perfect… Even after Jake disappeared, he and Mum did everything they could to find him. I know, _know_ , he wouldn't have given up if it wasn't for that awful woman's interference.

I take a hesitant step towards him, but he rapidly dissolves the distance between us faster than I could have ever dreamed by wrapping his arms around me. I hug him back, letting him sob heavily into my shoulder. I've never seen him break down and cry like this, and the shock of this moment makes me cry too. I bury my face in his chest, flooding his cloak with my tears. I seize the moment to inhale deeply, drowning in the memories that are imbued into the smell of him. The scent of peace; happiness; safety. Even after all this time, he still smells like home.

"I shall leave the two of you alone," Professor Dumbledore says, stepping gracefully out of his office.

Dad looks at me, holding my face in between his large and gentle hands. His eyes are red, and they exhale sorrow, but they also seem to be bursting with love. A few more tears escape my own eyes and he dries them with his thumbs, letting out a painful sigh.

"Sweetheart… your mother…"

I nod. "She's gone, Dad. It's been almost two years now."

"And Jake? Where is he?"

I've never known the side effects of administrating Amortentia for so long, but now I'm face to face with them. From what I can only assume, a lot of his feelings were suppressed while Rita Skeeter was giving him the potion. Maybe even his memory was affected.

"Jake is still missing."

"Oh, God," he says, and I can see the despair in his eyes. "What just happened here?"

"I'll tell you everything, Dad," I say, hugging him again. "But for now, let me just enjoy having you back."

* * *

We have dinner together in Dumbledore's office. Dad seems to — understandably — lack the desire to eat, but when the trauma begins to fade and the hunger kicks in, he quickly reaches for a carrot. And then another.

It took all of him to not run after Rita Skeeter and hex and curse her until there was nothing left. In the end, he decided it was wiser to sit and listen to what I had to say. Though I also want to see her dead and buried, I feel that she'll be useful to me someday. I still have a brother to find, after all. And she has a lot to make up for.

Now, I tell him everything worth mentioning. I don't tell him about my quests into the forest, because I feel like it's too much information to absorb in a short amount of time. But I do tell him about what it's like to live with Grandpa, Grandma, and Holly… I tell him about Aunt Anise and Gil… I tell him about my friends, though I do leave out the things about Barnaby and Talbott. And, finally, I even tell him that I may have found a way to find Jake. When I say that, he looks at me with genuine interest and tells me that he wants to know all about it… after he's had a moment to adjust.

"Things are still so confusing," he says. "I think I need to take a break from everything. Go away for a while… to work things out. To forgive everything… _to forgive myself._ "

"Dad, none of this was your fault," I say, resting my hand over his.

"Regardless, the last memories Annette has of me are the worst ones possible."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Love is fragile… and how was she to know? I think the best you can do is send her love and light… and then let her go."

A single tear falls down his cheek. "When did you become you wise, Starshine?"

I smile. "Somewhere between losing you and finding myself."

He runs his fingers thought my hair in an affectionate gesture, and then sighs. "I don't think I'll be able to return to the Ministry. I won't be able to do my job while knowing that awful woman is out there and unregistered."

I swallow hard, knowing that I'll have to keep this one secret from him, as least for now. I'm not sure if it's a good idea to let him know about my own owl adventures in the Forbidden Forest.

Our conversation lasts a little longer, and then he escorts me back to my tower. Having him hugging me is the ultimate confirmation that everything will finally be okay. It will take us time to recover, but from what I was able to learn while being at Hogwarts, I know that anything is possible.

All we need is time.


	83. Year 4: Chapter 31 - Weaving the Wrath

**A/N:** Hello, my beautiful and wonderful friends! Jeez, I wasn't expecting so many reviews in so short time. Thank you very, very much for all the support! Thank you **Rachel** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **FlaviaCoelho** , **serendipitymadness** , **Sonny Daniels** and **Thalia** for the amazing reviews. I wanna send a special and much deserved thank you to my magnificent _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), without who this process wouldn't be possible. Thank you, Rina, for everything! One more chapter to go and Year 4 will be over! I ended up forgetting to celebrate this story's first year. May 15th was this story's birthday! Yay! I wanna thank for all the 404 reviews, over 54.000 views and 82 followers. You guys are what keep my imagination working. Thank you so, so much! Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-One – Weaving the Wrath**

* * *

Dad is in Hawaii. He sent me a postcard of a beautiful beach on the island of Maui. He said that the solitude of the beach and its surrounding nature will help him recover. At least, that's what the all the books he bought about recovery told him.

My friends are still gobsmacked about what happened. Rowan started to hyperventilate after realizing that administrating Amortentia and doing such vile things is even a possibility. From what I could make out amidst her heavy breathing, if anyone tried to do this to her and Charlie, she might well be arrested for attempted murder.

"Dear Merlin, _and they even had sex!_ " Tulip exclaimed when I told them, sending my mind spiralling with thoughts I had been trying tremendously to block out. "Isn't that nearly rape?!"

"Imagine if she had got herself pregnant!" Penny added, shocked. "This is wrong in so many ways…"

The thought still makes me shudder.

Barnaby has been trying really hard to show me that — according to him — "he's there for me," though I'm perfectly aware of his secret agenda. After all our ups and downs, I'm now absolutely positive that even if we were to be together, we'd have an awfully immature relationship. So, I'm willing to accept his friendship and demonstrations of loyalty… but nothing more.

 _Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."_

I spend the following days trying to do exactly what Dad is trying to do as well: forgive everything and forgive myself. However, these things are awfully hard to do considering that this is all Rita Skeeter's fault, and I hate her to death. It does, nevertheless, get easier with time, and as April draws to a close, I finally find myself concentrating on something more important.

I feel that I'm prepared enough for the exams, so I allow myself the luxury of focusing only on the task before me. I have already read everything I can find about Acromantulas, so I practice hexes, jinxes, and curses, and even indulge in an oversized box of caramels that I got from Honeydukes.

On the eve of my quest, I lounge in the big midnight-blue sofa in front of the fireplace in the common room, open the dwindling box of caramels once more, and rest a huge book about dangerous creatures in my lap. The silence is comforting, and I relish being able to carve out this moment to myself while everyone is asleep.

It's reassuring.

The description of the humongous spiders doesn't erase the stillness of my soul. I won't let myself be bedevilled by a bunch of unnatural arachnids, and definitely won't let them stand in the way as I search for Jake. I'll do whatever it takes to have him back, even if it means blackmailing Rita Skeeter and killing a few spiders. No matter how big they are.

I'm so focused on the words before me, and the taste of the salted caramels, that I almost fall off the sofa when Talbott suddenly appears behind me, looming over my shoulder like a silent bat.

"Sweet Merlin," I gasp, placing a hand over my racing heart.

"I'm sorry to startle you," he says, sitting gracefully down on the empty cushion between the torn-up box of candy and the tips of my fuzzy blue socked-covered feet.

"Startle, that's cute," I say. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He smiles, amused. "What are you reading that's keeping you so enthralled and yet so absentminded?"

I tilt the book in his direction. "I'm preparing… for tomorrow."

"Will you let me accompany you?" he asks, his garnet eyes seeming to look right into my soul.

I hold his gaze, feeling my cheeks burning. "I assume it's pointless telling you it's too dangerous."

He smirks. "I kinda like danger. Besides, I wouldn't mind being in trouble with you."

I draw in a sharp breath.

 _Merlin._

* * *

That night, after I finally close the almost empty box of caramels we shared and put the book to rest, I dream of him. It's a gentle, almost poetic dream.

 _We're lying on an endless expanse of greens and blues. The floor is a carpet of grass, and there are tufts of wildflowers bursting into bloom around us, dancing on the wind in a spectrum of colour. The air smells of spring. Of new beginnings. The bright blue sky is an immensity that goes on and on and on, sparsely stained by delicate fluffy clouds. There is a breath of music in the distance; a soft piano melody that I can only hear when I close my eyes, but the scenery is so breath-taking that I don't mind missing the chords._

 _Talbott looks at me with eyes of cinnabar, and there's a genuine smile upon his lips. The wind dishevels his usually flawless hair, and I reach out to rearrange the soft strands into place. He swiftly takes my hand, resting it against the softness of his warm skin. It is perfect. He is carved from clay. A sculpture made human. More than human. I lose myself in the depths of his eyes, and before I can fully comprehend the passage of time, I see the skies around us change: fading to a dusty blue, to a spring rose, to a sunset orange… until we're surrounded by the night and the light of a million sparkling stars._

I wake up on the morning of the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin match, feeling my heart racing with the memories of my dream. I let out a sigh before finally leaving my bed, and since I can hardly stop thinking about the beautiful dream, I tell Rowan about it while we're heading to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Sounds like you have strong feelings for him," she says with a smirk. "The question is: does he feel the same about you?"

I bite my bottom lip. "I don't know. Too soon to tell, I guess. Besides, the school year is almost over. Let's see how things will work out after summer break."

Rowan's smile widens. "I don't know how you can take it. Now that I'm dating Charlie, I can't endure a whole week without making out with him."

"Yeah," I say. "That's because I'm a much more evolved human being. I'm one step closer to becoming Buddha."

She punches me in the arm, looking at me with an amused expression. Staring into her glowing, love-filled eyes, I can't help but wonder what will happen when the time to marry Dev finally catches up with Rowan and Charlie's young and innocent love.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall is exultant, and bursts of yellow and green are scattered all around the room. Penny is wearing a giant sunflower hat, and Tonks has several bright yellow highlights in her bubble-gum pink hair. Only Barnaby is rooting for his own house, with the rest of us are sporting yellow and black.

"This is unfair," Barnaby says, crossing his arms. "I cheer for your houses when Slytherin's not involved."

"Well, yes, but Merula is involved, so that's a big no from me," Charlie tells him with a wide grin, placing a huge sunflower pin on his sweater, which is enchanted to say: " _Slytherin Sucks_."

Rowan and Penny are aware of my plans. They're still the only ones that know about my owl situation, and they promised that they would distract our friends long enough for them not to notice that I'm gone. I accompany them to the pitch and notice an eagle resting on one of the tall towers where the professors usually sit to watch the games. I swallow hard, wondering if I'll be able to fly away unnoticed.

I wait, ever so anxious, for the players to gather on the grassy lawn of the pitch around Madam Hooch. While she gives the usual instructions, I risk a glance at the eagle, which promptly spreads its wings and streaks off towards Rubeus's hut. I get Rowan's attention by poking her hip, and she nods at me before starting to jump up and down while calling Charlie to join her in her excitement. I glance around to make sure I'm unnoticed before taking a deep breath and discreetly kneeling to crawl under a row of seats.

I close my eyes and picture feathers and freedom, and when I open my eyes again, I'm a snowy owl. I slide effortlessly under the seats until I see an open space in the back of the stands and hurl myself into the sky. I soar toward the edge of the forest, toward Rubeus's hut, _towards Talbott_. He told me he won't participate in the fight unless it's absolutely necessary. But he'll be watching, and the thought of him flying there like a silent guardian makes me feel a little more confident.

I alight behind the huge turnips in Rubeus's garden and transform back into my human form. Rubeus is already waiting for me by the forest's edge, firmly holding his cross-bow as Fang scurries around his ankles.

"Athena," he says, sighing in relief. "I thought yeh had decided to enter the fores' alone. If yeh took any longer ter get here, I was goin' teh look fer yeh."

"Sorry, Rubeus," I say. "I had to wait for everyone to see that I was at the game. The last time I disappeared, people started getting suspicious."

Rubeus still looks uneasy. "Let's jus' do it, all righ'? I get really nervous with the thought of yeh wanderin' this forest alone."

I nod and follow him into the forest. Though it's a bright and clear day, once we step within the canopy of trees, the scenery grows dark and gloomy. Even the soft rustling of Talbott's wings, the sound that was supposed to reassure me, makes my heart race with nerves.

We walk for several minutes in silence until the sound of hooves makes me realize that we aren't alone.

"Torvus! How are yeh?" Rubeus says fondly, and Torvus blinks at us.

"Not bad, considering we're about to walk into the jaws of death," he says calmly, and I swallow hard, my nerves rising to the surface.

My fingers tighten around my wand as I look into his impassive eyes. I left my bracelet inside the drawer of my nightstand. Professor Snape might not have noticed its call of danger when Ben attacked me, but I'm sure he's monitoring it more closely now in light of the lapse, and just the uneasiness of my heartbeats may be enough to call him to the place I'm standing. I don't want him, _or anyone_ , preventing me from ending this curse.

"Are you ready, Athena?" Torvus asks me, and I nod in silence. "Let us go, then."

He leads us along meandering pathways between large roots that break through the forest floor, past ever-denser foliage and mysterious mushrooms, further and further into the forest. We walk past the fallen tree where I found Julian, and I tell myself that I'm doing this for more than only Jacob as I push down the fear of memory. I'm doing this for Julian, and Nora, and everyone that this damn Vault is threatening.

It takes a while for us to reach what appears to be a huge spider den. There are thick webs hanging from the trees — too dense to see through — and small spiders swarming along the forest floor until the grass is barely visible. I can make out small skeletons — rats and birds, probably — and even a bone that looks big enough to belong to a person. I try to calm my racing heart, but the proximity of danger makes cold sweat break out across my back. I risk a glance up, searching through the dense foliage until I spot the shape of the eagle, watching me like a faithful guardian. It makes me feel brave.

"Where is the Vault?" I ask Torvus.

"Somewhere beneath these webs. We should search quickly before—"

"Hello, Hagrid."

I turn around abruptly, aiming my wand at the gigantic spider that has silently emerged from a tear in a web and is patiently watching us with its many huge eyes. Its pincers move, emitting a threatening clicking sound.

"Do you know this spider?" Torvus asks, his words catching slightly, his arrow already placed in the bow.

"Not this particular feller, but teh Acromantulas know me," Rubeus tells us. "We go back a ways."

"You don't say," Torvus replies, obviously annoyed.

"Ask him about the Vaults," I whisper, poking Rubeus with my elbow.

"Ask me yourself, human," the spider says with its deep, intense voice, and I can hear the undercurrent of clicking beneath the words. "I don't bite." It makes a terrifying sound that could possibly be construed as a laugh, and it echoes through me, flooding me with cold fear. I feel the goosebumps breaking out across my skin.

"He's a funny one," Rubeus says, letting out a booming laugh.

I swallow hard before speaking. "I'd like to know where the entrance to the Cursed Vault is."

The spider blinks at me with all eight of its eyes. "And why should I tell you that, human?"

I lower my wand, telling myself that I'm more than prepared to face this spider if it _does_ decide to attack me, and there's no need to feel so nervous.

"I need to enter it to put an end to the curse," I tell him, keeping my voice steady. "The students are in danger. Some of them died because of this Vault."

"I made my home here long before sleeping humans started walking into our forest," the spider says. "Trespassing on our land."

"I know it's not your fault," I lie, wondering if it was this particular spider that killed Julian. "The _curse_ is the problem. I've come to put an end to it."

"We don' mean any harm," Rubeus says, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"I don't mean you any harm either, Hagrid," the spider says. "Have a look around."

Rubeus instantly looks around, eyeing the webs that cover almost every square inch of the trees and rocks around us. "It's a very nice place. We'll be careful not teh disturb yer webs."

The spider clicks its pincers again. "You misunderstand, Hagrid. You are the only one who can have a look around… while I feed on your friends."

It is more than instinctive. I cast spells towards the threatening spider before I have even wrapped my brain around the motion, _Arania Exumai_ among them, and even Torvus risks shooting an arrow or two. Rubeus seems to be awfully distressed with the situation unfolding in front of him, crying out, "No!" as he whirls around frantically, torn between us and the giant spider.

Even Talbott joins the fight, shooting down with frightening speed to attack the spider with his sharp talons. Amidst the sudden bolts of spells, arrows, and sharp claws flying through the clearing, the spider doesn't quite know how to react. I'm sure it wasn't expecting us to attack quite so suddenly and so intensely.

I notice a clear liquid escaping from the injuries we managed to inflict into its carapace, and I realize it's bleeding profusely. Talbott returns to his place atop a thick branch, and Torvus steps back, his bow still trained on the bleeding spider.

"Where is the Vault?" I demand, feeling my heart drumming painfully against my ribcage.

The spider tries catching its breath, but it looks too dazed and hurt to speak. Instead, it only flashes me a set of deathly eyes and hisses something that sounds awfully like, "You're going to regret this," as it lunges wildly in my direction.

I aim my wand at it again, my nerves still on edge, and cast _Arania Exumai_ one more time. The spell hits the spider with strength, catching it mid-motion and flinging it onto its back, where it lies still, its many legs curling towards its stomach.

I pant, trying to catch my breath while Torvus walks towards the spider, poking it with one of his hooves.

"Yeah," he says. "Looks dead to me. You know, Athena, Acromantula venom is an extremely rare and useful potion ingredient."

I risk a glance at Rubeus, who doesn't seem to be listening to our conversation. Instead, he appears to be hyperventilating. Torvus, on the other hand, flashes me a smirk and I find the courage to grab a flask from my bag and collect some of the spider's purplish venom.

"This is wrong… it's wrong…" I hear Rubeus saying. "This isn' right."

"Hagrid, let it go," Torvus says. "Better him than us."

"Yeah, yeah," Rubeus says sadly. "It was probably fer the bes'…"

"We still need to find the Vault," I say, slipping the flask back into my bag.

I cast _Diffindo_ to ruthlessly clear the spiderwebs surrounding us, and as I whirl around the clearing, I see a final spiderweb fall away, revealing a dark wooden double door hidden in the bark of a huge tree. I walk to it, casting a spell to unlock it, and the doors open, flooding us with an intense golden light. I glance at Torvus and a very dismayed Rubeus… and step inside the Vault.

It looks just like the other Vaults, and I instantly feel as though I have stepped back in time. The floor has the same beautiful pattern, and the suits of armour along the walls look at us in the same way as before. In the middle of the Vault is a familiar column, from which the golden light emanates, and I know it guards the secrets to the next Vault.

"Wow," Torvus says, astonished. "It is incredible!"

"Where's teh treasure?" Rubeus asks, baffled.

"I don't know if there's any treasure, but something usually happens when I touch this column," I tell them.

"Oh, Athena," Rubeus says, his voice still choked from what just transpired. "I dun like ter think of yeh enterin' these dangerous places all by yerself."

"I don't think she's been all alone, Hagrid," Torvus says, staring at the eagle as it lands to rest on the helmet of one of the suits of armour.

I smile in relief, thinking of how, with the help of amazing friends, I was once again able to find another Vault. I approach the glowing column and touch its cold surface with my fingertips, allowing the light to run through my fingers.

 _"You're almost there… Athena…"_

Jake's voice floods my mind, bringing my heart back into an unbridled race. I've missed his voice so much that simply the sound of him speaking my name is enough to bring back courage and determination to my soul.

"Jake?" I call, desperate to hear him again.

 _"Only the final Vault is real… The rest are distractions… Decoys… Traps… I helped as much as I could from here…"_

"From where? Where are you, Jake?" I ask, closing my hands into fists.

 _"I'm trapped in the next Vault… You're the only one who can set me free… You can't let them get there first!"_

"Where's the next Vault? Who's "them?" Jake, answer me! _Where are you?"_

But his voice is gone, and all I'm left with is silence.

I look around, only to see Rubeus, Torvus, and eagle-Talbott looking at me with curiosity. They cannot hear Jake's voice, but they sure heard me shouting, my voice echoing within the vast empty chamber. I feel my cheeks burn red and I sigh in frustration as I reach into my bag in search of Torvus's arrow.

The Centaur releases a hesitant gasp as I raise the arrow and touch it to the glowing column. It opens like a flower; the walls of the column spreading like petals searching for sun. A long familiar sight. Before glancing inside, I turn to face Torvus.

"Here," I say, handing him the arrow. "I made you a promise, Torvus. Jake made one too, but he disappeared before he could keep it. Thank you for everything. I hope, more than deeply, that your herd accepts you back. Especially after everything you've done."

He nods, holding the arrow against his chest. "You're a remarkable human, Athena. I hope you find your brother. Rest assured that I'll be always here to help you."

I smile at him and turn around to see what awaits me. What clue has the Vault provided now? Amidst all the sparkling golden light, lies a floating red sweater — so tiny, it's small enough to fit Holly — and a portrait of a dragon.

"This is odd…" Torvus says, scratching his chin.

"Let's worry 'bout teh oddness o' it later. Athena mus' return to teh castle 'fore anyone notices she's gone," Rubeus says impatiently.

"Hopefully, this means the sleepwalking curse is broken," Torvus says, accompanying us back to the spider's lair. "This is where we separate, Athena Lockhart. It was a pleasure to fight beside you. I hope we'll see each other again."

I bow. "The pleasure was all mine, Torvus."

We watch him disappear between the many branches and roots surrounding us, until we can no longer hear the sound of his hooves.

"Interestin' feller, Torvus," Rubeus says, tapping me on the shoulder. "Now, c'mon then. Back ter teh castle."

We walk, leaving the mess of sticky spiderwebs behind us, and as I'm brushing the remains of webs from my clothes, I bump into Rubeus, who has stopped abruptly in between two huge bushes.

"Professor Dumbledore!" I gasp, looking past Rubeus. My blood turns to ice, chilling me to the bone.

"Athena," he says, clasping his hands in front of his body, a sweet smile upon his serene face. "I'm pleased to see you are safe and sound."

"Professor, I kin explain," Rubeus says, but Dumbledore make a gesture for him not to speak.

"You've entered the Forbidden Forest without permission," he says.

"It's me fault, Professor," Rubeus continues. "I told 'er I'd escort 'er…"

"No, Professor," I say, stepping forward. "It's my fault entirely. I asked Rubeus to accompany me. I figured it would be safer to have him with me."

"Fear not, Athena," Dumbledore says. "There's plenty of blame to go around. Mr. Filch also told me that you and Miss Rakepick stole something very valuable from his office."

"I'm sorry, sir, but a thief is the last thing you could call me," I say indignantly. "That's just not true! Besides, I'd never join Rakepick's party."

"There's no proof of a theft, Miss Lockhart," he continues. "However, there can be no doubt that you continue to exhibit little respect for Hogwarts' rules, not to mention its Headmaster."

"But, sir—"

"We've discussed your misbehavior too many times. Perhaps you will respond more favorably to punishment."

"This is… just _unfair_!" I say, a little too loudly.

"Not everything in life is fair, Miss Lockhart."

I feel my blood begin to boil and my cheeks burn with anger. "SPARE ME YOUR WISDOM! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO PUNISH ME FOR SAVING HOGWARTS FROM INEVITABLE DOOM?!"

"Athena, I don' think yeh should yell at Professor Dumbledore," Rubeus says, resting his huge hand on my back.

I sigh, digging my nails into my palms, trying to calm myself down. "You're right. What I mean to say, Professor, is that I don't think you're seeing it from the right perspective. In fact, I don't think you have any perspective whatsoever. You hired Patricia Rakepick — a reckless woman who's doing nothing to keep the school safe — then disappeared for almost the whole school year, doing Merlin-knows-what! You _knew_ that Ben and my father were being controlled and said nothing about it!" My voice is shaking now, both with anger and dread, but I force myself to keep going. "And the cherry on top is that you want to punish me for _ending the curse that led to Julian's and Nora's deaths._ I wonder what goes on in your brilliant mind that you can be so oblivious to the dangers that lurk inside this school!"

Dumbledore says nothing. He remains impassive, watching me throw my tantrum and spit out all the things that were weighing down my chest. I didn't even realize how little room there was for air with my anger wrapped around me so tightly. When I finally catch my breath and calm myself down enough to have a normal conversation, he turns to Rubeus.

"Hagrid, could you please escort Athena to your hut and offer her some tea?" he says simply. Then he turns, vanishing before I can say another word.

I'm left standing there, dumbfounded, in the middle of the dark, forsaken forest, and when I look up to find Talbott's eyes, I notice he's gone too.

Great. That was a fine way for him to find out that I'm not girlfriend material.

I sigh, wondering what will be waiting for me when I step foot in the castle again. Dumbledore will probably allow Filch to hang me from my wrists in his office. He'll probably spank me with a paddle and then make me clean the whole castle without magic. To finish, I'll probably have to polish the trophies… But I guess it'll all be nothing compared to having to face Professor Snape's fury, which is surely brewing. Once again, I have disobeyed him and run off on my own. And I don't know if I can bear the heartbreak of another disappointed look.

"C'mon, Athena," Rubeus says. "Let's 'ave some tea."

"I don't feel like drinking tea, Rubeus," I say, all the residual excitement of ending the curse slowly draining out of me like water, until nothing is left but a gloomy feeling of despair.

"Brandy, then," he says.

"I'm not old enough to drink brandy," I say dully, wondering why the hell I even care.

"The brandy's fer me," he says, escorting me to his hut. "Fer yeh, maybe some well-diluted sherry."

I smile sadly, watching the castle fade into view as we finally leave the forest behind. The day is still bright blue and beautiful, as if the skies are unaware of the problems that lie ahead. I walk with Rubeus to his hut, drawing to a halt when a familiar sight greets me. My heart beats hard, racing in my chest when I realize Talbott is waiting for me, his back resting against a gigantic pumpkin. I look at him with the most dismayed expression in the world, but he doesn't seem to be disappointed by my little reckless tantrum. If anything, he looks incredibly amused.

"Hi, Athena," he says with a smirk. "What've you been up to?"

And for a moment, the smile that lights up my face is brighter than the blue that paints the sky. Brighter than the entire world.


	84. Year 4: Chapter 32 - Almost There

**A/N:** And Year 4 has come to an end. I wanna thank you all endlessly for all the reviews, love and support, and for being such amazing readers and friends. This wouldn't be possible without you guys. Thank you so, so much! I also wanna send a big shout out to my wonderful _Beta_ , **Rina** (aka **iNiGmA** ), who's helping me make this story even better. She's also an incredible writer, so I greatly advise you all to check out her stories. And to finish, I wanna thank **serendipitymadness** for the awesome review on my last chapter.

 **Important!** I'm currently writing Year 5 and since Rina is going to take well deserved vacations, I'll only upload again in the beginning of August. I wanna have a lot of chapter already done, so I can upload without worries. So no, I'm not abandoning this story. I already have the entire fifth year outlined and I'm excitedly writing. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you all for understanding.

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Two – Almost There**

* * *

"How presumptuous of him!" Rowan exclaims when I tell her what happened after the game. "I'm going to blast down his office door right now and protest for your right to come and go and—"

"Row," I say, resting my hand on her arm. "Don't you want to be the youngest professor here? And prefect? And Head Girl?"

"Yeah," she says hesitantly.

"And with that in mind, do you think it's wise to protest for my right to break the rules?"

"Not really," she says, looking down.

"It's okay," I tell her. "I'll face every little consequence."

"How can you be so optimistic after what just happened? I mean, you faced an Acromantula, for Fawkes sake! You freed the castle from a deathly curse! This is so unfair…"

"I know."

"How can you look so calm? This is just wrong!"

"I know it is. But something made me see things differently."

She looks at me, confused, a frown playing across her lips, but it takes only a few seconds for her face to relax and then twist into a devilish smile.

"Oh, _I see_ what's going on," she says, poking my ribs with her fingertips. "You made out with Talbott…"

I smile, feeling my cheeks burn. "No, I didn't. I mean, not yet."

Her eyes widen. "What happened? Tell!"

She rushes to open a box of truffles and looks at me anxiously, dying to know what happened after I told Rubeus that I wasn't in the mood for tea and just wanted to talk to Talbott.

Rubeus seemed relieved to wash his hands of my crazy adventures when I refused his offer and stepped into his hut to open a bottle of brandy and drink all of it. I probably traumatized him for life…

Talbott, however, seemed incredibly amused when I joined him in the garden, crouching between Rubeus's crops. I didn't have to tell him what happened, because he was there. The only reason he left — according to him — was to give me some privacy, because the things I wanted to tell Dumbledore seemed awfully intimate.

We strolled through the turnips and then amongst huge cabbages. As we were making our way through bushes of carrot leaves, Talbott stopped and turned to me with his sparkling ruby eyes.

"What?" I asked, feeling my cheeks burning again.

"I… I like…" he started saying, and I noticed the flush creeping across his thin cheeks as well. "I like… spending time with you."

I smiled bashfully. "Me too."

He then did something I wasn't expecting. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and we continued our walk among the carrots. A strange and scenic view if you think about it, but while walking beside him and speaking of sweet nothings, I could almost hear four heartbeats. His, mine — and an eagle and an owl flying around us, their shadows just out of sight.

"That sounds…" Rowan says, dreamy. "So romantic."

I giggle. "More romantic than my secret affair with Barnaby?"

"Oh, definitely! I mean, Barnaby's cute and all, but you have nothing in common… whereas Talbott sounds like a character from a book. Like a guardian or a knight…"

"Perhaps," I say with a smile. "I don't want to over romanticize it. I had this ideal of what Barnaby and I could be in a utopic world, but my feelings for him are gone. With any luck, I'll find Jake in the next Vault and everything will be okay again."

"Are you really planning to wait a whole year to start your fling with Talbott?"

I sigh. "I don't know. There are a lot of variables in this equation."

"For example?"

"The main one being: does he have feelings for me?"

"Oh, my dear. As certain as the sky is blue, Talbott Winger has feelings for you."

* * *

On Monday, I take the bottle of Acromantula venom with me to the dungeons. I am, once again, torn apart by conflicted feelings. I wonder if I'll ever feel normal again. What would it be like, to have to wrestle with only one or two things at a time rather than this myriad of trouble and restlessness that I usually carry with me.

I find Professor Snape sitting at his desk, in the quiet stillness of his office, rather than in the classroom. His door is open, and there's a big pile of ungraded exams lying next to a steaming cup of tea in front of the chair before his desk. It's empty. Waiting.

The place I usually sit.

"Won't we brew any potions today?" I ask nonchalantly, sitting down in the empty seat in front of him.

"Not today," he says. "I would like you to help me grade these tests."

"That would be nice," I say, lifting up a quill and starting to read a first year's answers.

We remain silent for almost forty minutes, until the quietude becomes too much for me to bear and I rest my quill and withdraw the bottle of venom from my bag. I place it carefully on the table, right in front of him. The purplish liquid seems to glisten in the candlelight.

"This is Acromantula venom," I say, though I'm pretty sure he knows what it is. "I figured you'd like to have it. And… I'm sure you're aware of what I've been up to this weekend."

He studies the flask, his eyes avoiding mine. "I was not aware, but given your record for foolishness, I can only assume that you are the reason the cursed students have suddenly awakened."

"Your assumptions are correct."

"I am not going to scold you, if that is what you are waiting for," he says, lifting his eyes to look at me.

I stare back unwittingly, finding no reprehension in the deep onyx pools that make up his eyes. If anything, I spot only traces of exhaustion, and the guilt I've been pushing away steals through me once more.

"I'm sorry for disappointing you… again," I tell him. "I'm genuinely sorry. I feel like I keep betraying your trust."

He makes a gesture for me to stop talking. "Miss Lockhart, as much as I would prefer that you could just follow the rules, it seems to me that you're incapable of such a thing. This is not a flaw, but it isn't a strength either. I have simply concluded that you follow your own principles — things that, in your childish mind, are more important than the rules intended to keep you safe."

I glance down at the bracelet, securely wrapped around my wrist once more. The little charm he added to help keep me safe is still there, shining and bringing some comfort to my heart. It hurts that I made him feel so frustrated that he considers me little more than a reckless child incapable of staying in line.

"I beg to differ, sir," I say timidly. "I know I'm still young, but that doesn't mean I'm a child. I know that in a perfect world none of this would be happening, and I would be just an ordinary Ravenclaw that you would despise, but we're not in a perfect world. I've been trying to make the wrongs right. Is that really so reprehensible? Have you ever loved someone so, so much that would go to the ends of the world for them?"

He looks away, his eyes momentarily lost in the dance of the flames lighting up the room as his face hardens. The last time I've seen him this mournful was the day I stepped into his office and saw him crying. It's almost like, with just a few words, I was able to shatter his heart.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I didn't mean to ruin your night."

"You didn't."

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for screwing it up again. I can never seem to be worthy of your time and patience."

He doesn't reply, so I pick up the quill again and continue grading the exams until it's time for dinner. I get up and slip my bag over my shoulder, but before I reach his office door, he clears his throat.

"Miss Lockhart."

I turn around. "Yes?"

"There is something that needs to be said about a young student of mine that, without full magical training and with only cleverness and resourcefulness, was able to put an end to a deathly curse before an experienced Curse-Breaker could even know where to begin," he says. "That, I must say, is not reprehensible. It is, in fact, almost… commendable."

I look at him, baffled, not sure how to respond. He looks down, to the flawless pile of graded exams that I just finished, and then his eyes return to me.

"I still consider you a reckless fool," he says. "However, I must say that, for showing our Headmaster that Rakepick is useless when compared to a fourth-year student, I am, indeed, very proud."

I smile, feeling suddenly lighter, as if my heart has been stuffed with joy. "Really?"

"That is all," he says. "You may go now."

My smile broadens as I turn to leave, feeling that even though I did something against the rules, I ended up doing something kind of right. And, on the horizon, there's still hope of finding Jake. I'll simply have to endure another year of rule-breaking and then I'll finally be able to be just an ordinary girl.

Things are almost normal again.

* * *

Matt isn't as distressed about the quickly approaching Quidditch match — the last of the season — as I thought he'd be. Though we won't win the Quidditch Cup, he seems determined to end his tenure at Hogwarts as both a great captain and a good friend. He's still making us train harshly, however, as if we're not simply players, but part of an army.

"Gryffindor will be in first place, that's for sure," he tells us. "But we already have one victory, and if we manage to win again against Slytherin, we'll finish second. With an amazing team like ours, I'm sure it's more than possible. Now let's practice!"

I don't want to disappoint him again, so I give it all during practices, trying hard to catch the Snitch as fast as I can. Without the worries of the forest Vault lurking in the corners of my mind, I can finally relax and focus on what I have to do before the school year ends.

There's hope lying inside of me. Just the sound of Jake's voice was enough to awaken all the love and happiness that was lying dormant in my heart. I can feel him with me; so solid and real. I wonder how he looks now. Has he grown older, even trapped inside the Vault? The last time I saw him, he was fifteen, but that was before I even started my first year at school. If I manage to find him and free him from the Vault, he'll be twenty. Will he still have the same spark in his blue eyes? Will he be taller? Will I even recognize him? _Will he even recognize me?_

I push these thoughts aside as I race around the pitch, allowing the wind to blow away all my hopelessness and despair. I'm one step closer to Jake, and I won't let anything stand in my way. Not Rakepick, not Rita Skeeter, not even Dumbledore. I'll do whatever it takes to find my brother.

I skim the lawn, grazing the freshly cut grass with my fingertips, and then shoot upwards, circling one of the goal hoops. As I make my way to the hoops on the other side of the field, my eyes are attracted by the glistening golden light of the Snitch flying by Andre's feet. I race towards him, enjoying the wind against my skin, and reach out to wrap my fingers around the small, cold ball. Andre lets out a gasp of surprise, but his face quickly breaks into a smile as he realizes what I've done, and he raises his hand to invite me for a high-five.

"Well done, witches," Matt says, calling us to land.

We gather around him in a circle as he looks at us with a proud smile. There's longing in his eyes, and I can almost tell what he's thinking: that he'll really, really miss playing with us. Isaac was a great captain for us, but Matt really did justice to the badge.

"The match is in just a few days, and before we play our last game together, I'd like to say a few words," he tells us. "First, I want you all to know that it was a pleasure to play beside you all these years. With some, I didn't get to spend much time with, but I'll forever cherish the moments we had together. Second, I think this is a good moment to thank our fellow companion, who once again freed our school from imminent danger. Which leads me to the third and last thing I want to say. Athena, you have been a wonderful addition to our team."

I blush furiously when they all turn to look at me with smiles upon their faces. Andre even gives me a tap on my shoulder, looking all proud and amused.

"If you're still blaming yourself for the match we lost to Gryffindor, please don't. There's more to life than Quidditch and trophies," Matt continues with a smile. "That's why we all talked and agreed that it's time for you to lead Ravenclaw towards new horizons."

I frown, wondering what the hell is going on, when Matt withdraws a small box from his uniform and hands it to me. I open it hesitantly, and my eyes widen when I find myself staring at a brand new and shiny captain badge.

"What—"

"Congratulations, Athena!" Andre says, hugging me with excitement.

The rest of the team joins in, and I find myself being squeezed by six sweaty guys that are completely ignoring my bafflement. When they finally let go, Matt rests his hands on my shoulders and looks at me with pride.

"You're going to be an amazing captain," he tells me.

"Captain and Curse-Breaker!" Andre adds.

"Guys, I… I don't know what to say." I stare at the badge in my hands, quite lost for words.

"Just tell us you'll do your best to keep us encouraged, and that you'll be a better captain than Charlie," Liam says.

"Charlie's Gryffindor's new captain? Damn, we're screwed," Andre says, slapping his forehead.

Link punches Andre on the arm. "Charlie may be good, but Athena's better!"

"Thanks," I say, blushing. "I'll do everything in my power to be the best captain I can be. Matt, Will, Riley… I'll really miss playing with you guys. But I'll do my best to find amazing players to succeed you and do justice to our uniform."

"FOR RAVENCLAW!" Andre shouts.

"FOR RAVENCLAW!" we all echo in unison.

* * *

On April 20th, the Friday before our big game against Slytherin, I'm arriving to our last choir practice of the year when I find Professor Flitwick standing by the door. By the look on his face, he seems to be waiting for me.

"Morning, Professor," I say with a smile.

"Good morning, Miss Lockhart," he says. "I was hoping to talk to you before the rest of the choir arrived."

"May I ask what it's about?"

"As you well know, you'll be starting your fifth year in September. Along with being the Quidditch captain and having to study for your O.W.L.s, I also would like to discuss the possibility of you becoming the new Ravenclaw prefect, along with your classmate, James Lee."

"But…"

"I know, it's a lot of responsibility, but you've shown us that you're more than capable of handling pressure and difficult tasks," he says, "and I do believe you'd rise to the challenge magnificently. I think you'd be an excellent prefect."

My thoughts begin to spin. _No, this cannot be happening._ Professor Dumbledore sees me as a troublemaker and incapable of following his orders. He _cannot_ be accomplice to this.

"Sir, I don't think Professor Dumbledore would agree to this."

"Ah, but it was the Headmaster himself who suggested it," he says.

I look down, understanding now what Professor Dumbledore meant by punishment. He wants to keep me as busy as possible, so I won't have time to go looking for my brother.

"Professor, can the position can be refused?" I ask.

"It's a rare thing to happen, but yes," he says, a peculiar expression crossing his face. I think it may be both disappointment and understanding. "You may refuse the position."

"I'm asking," I say slowly, "not because I'm not honored to be considered for the office, because I _am_ , but because I don't think I'm the best student suited for the job. With all due respect, sir, I think Rowan would be a much better prefect."

"I understand," he tells me with a kind smile. "I admit that I have considered Miss Khanna for the part, but the Headmaster made it clear that he thought you'd be a great acquisition to Ravenclaw's team."

"I'm sure he did," I say, looking away. "Nevertheless, I'd like to clarify that it's not in my plans to be prefect or Head Girl. I'm sorry, Professor, but I'll have to refuse your offer."

He nods. "I understand, Miss Lockhart. Being able to sort your priorities is the quality of a great leader. Look, our choir mates have arrived. Let us begin our practice."

Professor Flitwick enters the classroom, followed by all my fellow singers, and leaves me alone in the empty corridor, wondering what on earth he meant.

* * *

Saturday dawns in a tangle of mist and drizzle. The sky is a uniform light grey color, and the fine rain that pours is refreshing and reassuring. Though the sun is not visible, the beauty of the landscape is somewhat comforting, pushing away some of the trouble that has hovered over the castle during this dreadful year.

I join my team in the changing rooms, remembering the beautiful badge that is now safely stored inside my trunk, waiting for the time when I'll be able to place it proudly on my chest. I feel inflated with pride and joy and gratitude for being able to play with such an amazing team.

We walk to the pitch with our hearts drumming intensely in our chests. This is the final match of the season, which means that we can either win and finish second, or lose and be tied with Hufflepuff and Slytherin, which is a very undesired scenario. I inhale sharply when my eyes meet Barnaby's emeralds. He looks eager to show what he's made of, and his eyes linger on me, as if he's wondering if he should play fair and hit me with a Bludger or disappoint his team and kiss me profusely. Either way, I don't want any of these possible endings. Right now — and it's strange to admit — I don't have any feelings left for Barnaby. That doesn't prevent him from doing stuff like winking and smirking at me, but these things don't produce the same effect on me that that they used to.

Madam Hooch announces the beginning of the match, and I take my cue to get away from Barnaby. The drizzle doesn't take long to saddle my uniform with damp cold, but the adrenaline helps keep me warm. I race around the field as fast as I can, avoiding Bludgers and the other players as my eyes scan my grey surroundings for the Golden Snitch.

I see Barnaby lobbing a Bludger straight at Liam, but Matt is swift to interfere and hit the ball to the other side of the pitch. Barnaby looks bummed for a second, but his irritation is swept up by another Bludger, this time sent by Andre. It almost hits him, but he manages to dodge. Riley almost bumps against him while making a formation with Liam and Will, but they are agile enough to dodge Barnaby and score another ten points.

The drizzle becomes heavier, and my long braid sags as the water soaks through it, an annoying weight down my back. I wonder if I should just cut it off and wear my hair shorter. The wet wind against my face is really starting to annoy me, and I want to find the Snitch as fast as I can, so I lean forward to gain speed and circle the pitch faster.

As I fly past the stands, something unusual calls my attention: standing within a crowd of my dear Ravenclaws is a face that I'm not used to seeing in public. His red eyes are a spark in the rain, and when I fly close enough, I see his smile — a secret thing just for me. The corners of my lips instantly curl into a genuine grin, but the thrill of seeing Talbott standing in the crowd, all blue and bronze, makes me oblivious to what's going on around me. I'm startled by the gasps and screams coming from the crowd and I whirl around just in time to dodge an extremely fast Bludger.

The ball is followed by a very annoyed Barnaby, who flies by me with a vexed expression. I clench my jaw, following him angrily. He stops in the middle of the field, above the unfolding game, and by the look on his face I can tell that he's very mad at me.

"What the hell was that?" I shout.

"I can ask you the same!" he shoots back.

"Barnaby, I thought we were past this! I thought we agreed to be just friends!"

"NO! _You_ agreed to be just friends! I told you that I was waiting for you! It will _always_ be you, Athena!"

"Goddammit, Barnaby!" I yell. "Can't you see how messed up that is?"

"I can see you flirting with bird-boy!"

"Oh my God! Get over it! We won't be able to be friends if you keep acting like this!"

"Then maybe I don't want to be your friend anymore!"

"FINE!" I shout, annoyed.

"FINE!" he shouts back, spins his broom angrily around, and shoots down to join the fray.

I take a few seconds to breathe before finally returning to my frantic chase. It's hard to erase Barnaby's troubled face from my mind, and even more to ignore all the memories that insist on coming back. Have I been sending mixed signals all this time? Is there anything in my eyes saying yes while I'm saying no?

I shake my head to sweep these thoughts away and focus on finding the Snitch. While Barnaby and I were having our little argument, Slytherin got thirty points ahead of us. I hold my broom tightly and fly fast, longing to see the fleeting gleam of the golden ball.

The rain gets even heavier, hitting against my face like needles. I clench my jaw, feeling soaked, and cold, and internally bruised, when my eyes finally spot a spark of light amidst the rain. The Golden Snitch is hovering tantalizingly by Barnaby, as if inviting me to get near him again. I grumble, looking around to see Slytherin's seeker far away from me, flying near the Ravenclaw hoops. A smirk comes to my lips as I lean forward, and when Barnaby finally notices that I'm coming and looks at me with surprise, I'm already reaching out to grab the little golden ball.

His eyes are full of frustration, and I don't think it's because Slytherin lost the game. He flies away from me, joining his team on the ground, and I just hover there, the cold orb clenched tightly in my hand. I sigh, returning safely to the ground.

"Great game, guys!" Matt says, grinning at us while fixing his soaked hair. "Athena, you were fantastic. You're going to be a great captain!"

I smile sadly and thank the skies for the rain, for the water running down my face and washing my own tears away.

* * *

Barnaby doesn't sit with us on the train ride back home. The atmosphere in our compartment isn't mournful, but it's not joyful either. We're all happy to go back home, but there's also the feeling that something is different.

I told Rowan about what happened, and she told me to let it go. She said that maybe some distance is what we need to finally figure out what's happening.

"Let's talk about good stuff," she says, all but bursting with excitement. "Professor Flitwick told me that I was chosen to be the Ravenclaw prefect!"

I glance at her huge smile, realizing she's probably been dying to tell us for ages, but has held back in light of the Barnaby drama.

"Awesome!" Charlie says, grinning. "We'll be able to sit in the prefects' compartment together!"

"Oh, Athie," Rowan says, looking at me with a sad smile. "I'll miss these long rides with you." She glances at the small window on the compartment door. "But something tells me that you won't be all alone."

I look at the door too, fast enough to see a pair of red eyes glancing at me before disappearing down the corridor. I smile bashfully, feeling my heart skipping a beat.

"Things will be better when we return to school in September," Rowan says. "You're one step closer to finding your brother… we'll have the O.W.L.s to study for… and there'll be someone eager to see you again!"

I feel my cheeks burn as I glance at the window, only to see a lonely falcon soaring gracefully against the deep blueness of the sky. After the storm of my tumultuous week, I feel incredibly thankful for the calm.

We play games, eat candy, and laugh for the entire trip back home. As night falls upon the train and the sky gets dotted with million glimmering stars, I feel the sense of hope continuing to build up inside me. I close my eyes, remembering Jake's words in the Vault.

That I'll find him in the next one.

 _I'm so close._

When the train finally stops at King's Cross, my heart is filled with happiness. I grab my trunk and Twilight's cage and head out onto the platform, and my eyes widen when they see something they weren't prepared for.

"Dad?"


	85. Year 5: Chapter 1 - Facing Feelings

**A/N:** And August is finally here! After a long and sable July, I'm back to begin Athena's fifth year uploads. Though I wanted to have more chapters written, I only managed to write a few during this month of "vacations". Nevertheless, I'll do my best to always have a fresh chapter for you guys. Before we head to the chapter, I wanna thank you all for the over 61.000 views, 412 reviews, for the 94 followers and for the 69 of you who added this story as part of your favorites. I also wanna thank Emmy, who created a Wiki Fandom page of my story. It truly made me feel extremely flattered! Without further ado, here's the first chapter of a series of unfortunate events! I hope you guys like it. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

 **!** I have decided to add song verses to the beginning of every chapter. I'm already doing this to the previous chapters, as well as updating them.

* * *

 **Chapter One – Facing Feelings**

 _Such a feeling is coming over me_

 _There is wonder in most everything I see_

 _Not a cloud in the sky, got the sun in my eyes_

 _And I won't be surprised if it's a dream*_

* * *

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

The famous quote from the poem A Dream Within a Dream, by Edgar Allan Poe, is what the picture above my bedframe says. It's all in tones of foam green and blush, just like the rest of the bedroom. It's also what inspired me to name the little black kitten that is just now rolling over the rug, Edgar. He looks at me with his beautiful malachite eyes and meows. Twilight is avoiding him, only staring at him from safe distances. I think he knows that I'd be very upset if he ate my cat.

It was Dad who gave me Edgar. When he came to pick me up at King's Cross, holding a tiny black kitten in his arms, I didn't understand what was going on. He gave me the cat and on our way to the car, he invited me to move in with him. I gaped, flabbergasted, but after seeing his eyes sparking with the thought of us being a family again, I began to consider it. The time he spent traveling did him some good; he now has a healthy tan and an expression of determination, as if he's willing to conquer the world.

I thought I wouldn't like this place. I've learned to love my bedroom back in South Hams, with all the freedom and peace that I used to have. Was I really ready to have a father again? Was I ready to say goodbye to Grandpa, Grandma and Holly, and try to start anew? Dad said that he wouldn't force me. He just asked for one dinner in the new house and, if I liked it, I'd be more than welcome to live with him.

One dinner was all it took for me to fall in love with everything. With the building, with the beautifully decorated apartment and its dusty green walls and ash floor, with the view from every window and, more than everything, with the bedroom that Dad prepared for me.

The walls are of a smooth ivory. The huge bed is adorned by many grey, pink and bright white pillows. Dad made sure that I'd have a bunch, and I felt happy that he remembered this simple yet strange aspect about me. The covers are of an inviting shade of light green, just as the big fluffy rug under the bed, where Edgar is now playing with a ball of yarn. Next to the bed is a white nightstand with a beautiful bluish vase of daffodils. A few steps away is a wonderful bay window, framed by lovely lace curtains, and decorated with more fluffy cushions and a light pink yearn blanket. From the window, I can see the breath-taking Brighton beach. If I look down, I can see the beautiful piano store where Dad got the Knight upright piano that's in the room that he calls The Music Room. It has plants everywhere, two beautiful armchairs and his old cello. It's where I spend a good portion of my days, playing and composing.

Dad arranged a bookshelf with all my favourite novels, and even added a few that he thought I'd like. He recovered all my mother's old books and organized them beautifully in an order he thought I'd like to read. On the desk, he placed a mug full of pens and pencils, a jasmine scented candle and a beautiful vase of adiantum. In the end, he admitted that a very excited seller named Jim, helped him pick the entire décor and furniture. The guy even tried to flirt with him a few times and even called to ask Dad out. Shame the poor Jim didn't bother to ask about the gorgeous woman immortalized in the painting above the fireplace. Then he would've known the reason why Dad's heart is being kept under seven keys.

Eyes of blue sky and waves of wheat are what watch over me whenever I feel lost. The beautiful face of my mom is what guides me through every single moment of despair and dismay. She's like my own guardian angel – but with an ethereal lavender dress -, and I'm sure Dad feels the same. Every night, he sits on his big armchair with a glass of refreshing iced tea and just gazes at her as if she's his very star. It's at my mother's beautiful features that I'm looking at when my father comes out from his office, surrounded by a fading green light, which tells me that he just got home from work.

"Hello, my darling!" he says, giving me a kiss on the forehead, and glancing at my mother's painting with sorrowful eyes. "How was your day?"

"It was good," I say with a smile. "I took a walk around the neighbourhood and spend the rest of the day reading. I'm thinking of going to the beach tomorrow."

"Speaking of beach, there's something I'd like to discuss with you," he tells me, calling me to sit with him in the kitchen table. "Honey, I don't want you to spend your whole summer by yourself. So, I was wondering if you wouldn't like to spend the days at your grandparents. I'll leave the office fireplace at your disposal to come and go whenever you feel like it. I'd only like to be able to have breakfast and dinner with you. I feel that I'm being selfish, leaving you alone when there's a beautiful summer for you to enjoy."

I wait for him to finish talking, feeling my heart bursting with happiness. "Really? Oh, Dad, that would be incredible! I know that I've only been here for a week, but I really miss Grandpa, Grandma and Holly."

"Then you should enjoy your summer with them," he says. "We can spend the weekends together… and eat pizza every Wednesday night. I decided that Wednesday should be pizza day."

I smile, glad that some parts of my life are finally getting normal and happier. When Dad returned from his recovery trip, he met with my grandparents in Lockhart Gardens. At first, Grandpa was flipping out that Dad had the nerve to show up after everything that had happened, but once Dad explained everything, Grandma almost passed out. They had dinner and talked everything through, which made Dad's recovery a little harder at first, because everything he thought he had learned to forgive, slowly returned to haunt him. He says he's better now, but I'm pretty sure that it will all be very hard to forget.

When the night falls upon Brighton, I sit with Dad in front of the telly to watch The Sword in the Stone. Dad is a big fan of Disney movies. His favourite is Alice in Wonderland, though he's terrified of Tweedledee and Tweedledum. It's nice to just sit next to him, with a bowl full of buttery popcorn and some Club Lemon.

At last, I feel immensely happy.

* * *

I'm welcomed by a floating tray of linzer cookies. Right behind it it's a blissful Holly, dressed in her usual housekeeper outfit, looking sweet as always. She directs the tray to the coffee table and comes to hug me. I kneel, wrapping my arms around her tiny body, allowing her beating heart to be my own personal lullaby.

"Athena, my sweetheart!" she says, holding my hands in between hers. "How are you? Is everything okay at home?"

"Yes, yes, everything is wonderful," I say, opening a smile. "Oh, Holly, I missed you so much."

"Athena? Is that you?" I hear Grandpa's voice coming from his office. He comes out and the corners of his lips curl in a big smile. "Honeybee! You're here!"

"I'm here!" I say, running for a hug.

"I thought you'd spend the summer with your father," he says.

"Dad thinks it would be selfish of him to ask me to say home alone while he goes to work. So, he brought me here to spend the day."

"That's the Christopher we all know and love," Grandpa says, kissing me on the top of my head. "Now come. I have a steaming tea pot in my office that is eager to know all the news!"

"In a second, Mr. Lockhart," Holly says. "I just want Athena to try my cookies first."

"Very well, then," he says. "Spoiler alert, they are delicious."

He goes back into his office, and Holly looks at me with mystery in her jade eyes.

"Your friend Barnaby has come here several times since summer started," she tells me, and I gape.

"What?"

"I told him that you don't live here anymore, but I don't think he believed me," she says. "He looked desperate to see you."

I sigh. "Oh, Holly. This is… this is… this is just not good," I say, collapsing in a chair. "Barnaby and I had this huge fight. Whatever he means to tell me, probably will not be good."

"You don't know that," she says, wisely. "I don't know the reasons of your disagreement, but he looked very sad and, somehow, eager to see you. Perhaps he's wanting to apologize."

"No," I moan, staring at my shoes. "That's probably not it."

She holds my chin, lifting my face so I can look at her beautiful eyes. Her face is full of concern and wisdom, and yet with the joy of youth and enthusiasm.

"What happened between the two of you?"

I sigh. "I did… the opposite of what you told me to do. I played with his heart."

"Athena!"

"I know, I know. It was an awful thing to do. At first, I thought I really liked him, but then there was so much crowding up my mind that my feelings didn't really make sense anymore. After a while, being with him was just a decoy for what was happening around me. When I told him that I didn't want to hurt him anymore, he said he understood. Time passed and I thought we were back to being just friends, but… he can't seem to let it go."

"But you did," she says. "You let go."

I nod. "I don't want to talk to him and see his eyes flickering with hope, you know? He wants something that I can't give him."

"Here," she says, offering me a cookie. "Try these, go have tea with your grandfather and we can talk about it afterwards. I'll make strawberry shortcake for us. Do you still like those?"

"Of course."

"Then go. I'll be in the kitchen."

* * *

There isn't a glimpse of a cloud in the sky when I leave the kitchen after my conversation with Holly. I still feel a heavy weight upon my heart, but solely because I know that, sooner or later, I'll have to face Barnaby. I sit on top of a rock and watch a ladybug walk through the moss that's growing in another, smaller rock. It's funny to think that just seven months ago, I was kissing Barnaby under the New Year's fireworks. Is it wrong of me to move on? To allow my heart to be mesmerized by someone else?

Many thoughts wander through my mind as I leave the rock and continue down a solitaire pathway to the beach. The waves break mercilessly against the shore and a tiny crab finds refuge in a hole on the sand. I wish I could do the same; hide away whenever trouble is around, but I can't. Somehow, I always have to face it.

I return to the house to eat lunch and whenever I cross eyes with Grandma, I fake a smile when I remember that she knows nothing about my reckless adventures at school and the fact that I'm an unregistered Animagus. She still thinks I'm a perfect princess. The fact that I'm a straight O student and have many, many friends is enough to make her think that I'm incapable of doing anything wrong. Poor Grandma… I feel awful for keeping these things from her, but it's for the best. She'd freak out if she knew what I'm always up to.

However, I told Grandpa the whole thing: my Forest quests, the Acromantulas, Rakepick… everything. He watched me speak, looking interested and yet concerned. In the end, he sighed in relief and said he was glad that I was safe. The perspective of finding Jake in the next Vault also brought a spark of joy and hope to his eyes. He rested one of his big warm hands over mine and told me to never give up. The restlessness in his sapphire eyes was what gave more and more strength to keep on going.

In the afternoon, I went to Grandma's potions room to help her with a few concoctions. She had to deliver some orders to some clients in Hogsmeade, so she left me in charge to prepare the rest of the orders. It made me feel very honoured to having her thinking that I have such good aptitude with potions that I am more than capable of handling her potion business.

I start off with a few basic ones: Sleeping Draught, Wideye Potion, Blemish Pomade… All easy stuff that people could easily do in their own houses if they dedicated a little. Thankfully, they're not skilled enough and can continue to feed my grandmother's empire of potions. I grab a jar full of maggots and as I'm about to crush them, Holly shows up by the door.

"Athena? Barnaby's here to see you," she tells with seriousness.

My heart immediately starts racing inside my chest and I have to let down the jar I'm holding, because my palms begin to sweat. I sigh and clean my palms on my skirt. She flashes me a warm smile before leaving, and he shows up right after.

Though I'm nervous to see him, I immediately realize that the goosebumps and butterflies are gone. I'm simply nervous because I know that I'll have to face our imminent conversation, not because I love him or want him or anything like that. He, however, looks handsome as always. A little tanner, definitely taller, but with the same gorgeous green eyes that I used to melt for.

Used to.

Never occurred to me that I'd see him as just a friend.

"Hey," he says, holding his hands behind his back.

"Hey."

"Working during the summer?"

"Not really," I say. "I'm just helping Grandma while she's out."

He smiles bashfully. "Okay, then." And proceeds to leave.

"Wait," I say, and he turns around. "Holly said you come here often. Why?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, that is a little longer. "I thought you still lived here."

"No," I say. "I'm living with my dad. If you were speaking to me, you'd know."

He looks down. "I guess I deserved that."

"I'm sorry. That was very rude of me."

"No, you're right," he says, taking a few hesitant steps closer. "After the game, I didn't want to see you. For a while, at least. Believe me, Athena, it wasn't my intention to throw that tantrum during the game, but when I saw you flirting with bird-boy-"

"Talbott," I say, incisive. "He has a name."

"Yeah," he mumbles, contradicted. " _Talbott._ Anyway… I guess I just got a little jealous."

"It wasn't the first time, though," I say. "When I went looking for the arrowhead with him, you also got mad at me."

"It's true."

"So, this is how things are going to be?" I ask. "You're going to be mad at me whenever I'm around Talbott?"

He looks away, to the long table near the window where Grandma leaves all the plants that needs a lot of sunlight. I return my stare to the empty cauldron in front of me, that is waiting to be filled with mushed maggots, while I wait for Barnaby to say something.

"I'm sorry," he says, and I notice he's staring at the floor. "It's hard for me… seeing you with someone else."

I look at him, feeling awful when I notice how sad he looks.

"Last Halloween, when I asked you to be my first kiss… Well, I didn't think I'd fall this hard for you. I mean, I already had feelings for you. You are the first girl I have ever loved, and I honestly don't know what to do to erase these feelings."

I feel my heart skipping a beat when I hear the word "loved". I try my best to keep my face impassive, but it's difficult.

"I want you to know that I'm sorry," he says, lifting his head to look at me. "I'm sorry for being so pushy and insensitive. You made it very clear from the beginning that you didn't feel like it was the time to be in a relationship. I know how bad you want to find your brother. I just hoped that… if I waited long enough… you'd eventually be ready. I'm sorry."

I sigh. "It's okay. I was unfair to you too. I said I wasn't ready, and I still think that I'm not. My main priority is, indeed, finding my brother. Specially now, that I know he's trapped inside the next Vault. However, with the passing of the time, I was the one who erased the feelings I had for you."

"And now you have feelings for Talbott," he says, resented.

"I can't say that I don't," I confess, sadly. "This is so unfair to you. You are the sweetest guy I've ever met, and you don't deserve what I've done."

"What you've done?" he says. "What _I've_ done. You told me to let it all go, but I kept on insisting. I continued to chase you and want you and love you even with you pushing me away. I was the one who did this to myself."

Silence falls upon us for a few moments. His emerald eyes keep glued to me the entire time and it hurts to see how much our not so innocent affair bruised him. It makes me feel a little guilty for not loving him back. In a perfect world, I would requite his feelings and we'd be a wonderful couple. But we don't live in a perfect world. In my unperfect world, I ended up breaking one of my friends' heart.

"I'm sorry about everything, Barnaby," I say, risking a step closer. "This is not how I wanted things to be like. For a good amount of time, I was awfully confused. I wanted to be with you, but also to focus my energy into finding Jake. Amidst my confusion, I ended up letting what I felt for you… fade away."

He flashes me a forlorn smile. "I can't promise you that I'll forget you right away. I came here because I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. However, I think it's best for the both of us, if we only see each other when we return to school."

I look down. "Yeah, I think it's for the best."

Before I can realize, he walks to me and wraps his arms around me. I'm instantly numbed by the freshness of his citrusy perfume. Ever so hesitantly, I allow myself to hug him back.

"I want us to be friends again," he says. "Just friends. I want to be able to enjoy your company without wanting you so desperately."

He steps away and holds my face in between his hands. "Tell Talbott that I hope he deserves you. And if he ever hurt you, I'll hunt him down with the Quidditch bat."

I giggle and nod. "Okay."

He places a kiss on my forehead and walks to the door. Before leaving, he looks back one more time. "I love you, Athena. One day, I'll be able to love you as just my friend."

* * *

I'm chopping apples while waiting for Dad to get home. I told him I'd make mince pies for dinner and he said he'd bring the dessert from Enchanted Éclairs, the French bakery that just opened a few blocks from the Ministry. I feel happy to be home with him and finally be able to enjoy our little family. I chop another apple, imagining it's Rita Skeeter's face.

Dad gets home as soon as I'm putting the pies in the oven. He places a gorgeous Charlotte Russe cake on the table and comes to greet me with a kiss upon my forehead, just like Barnaby did. Dad doesn't know about what happened between Barnaby and I, and I don't think he'd like to know that I spent a month rolling with Barnaby in my bed in South Hams.

"How was your day?" he asks me, withdrawing his coat and hanging it in the standing coat hanger.

"It was good," I answer, and proceed to tell him about my day at my grandparents', excluding the Barnaby portion of my day.

"I'm so glad you had fun, my darling," he says, going to the fridge and opening a bottle of Coca-Cola. "And even more glad to be able to have dinner with you. The pies smell amazing, by the way.

I smile, but the sound of the doorbell makes my smile fade and an intrigued frown appear on my face. Dad looks at me with curiosity and gets up to open the door. I follow him, eager to see who it might be. The door is opened, revealing a sixty-something sweet looking man with hazel eyes and silver hair.

"Yes?" Dad says, opening a welcoming smile.

"Good evening," the man says. "You are Mr. Lockhart, I presume."

"Hodges, actually. Christopher Hodges," Dad corrects. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"Phillip Ashmore, but you can call me Phil. I'm here to welcome you to the building. I wanted to come sooner, but I was traveling with my grandson. He told me that he goes to school with your daughter. That's why I thought your surname was Lockhart."

"Oh, yes. Athena has her mother's surname," Dad explains. "Did you hear, Athena? One of your classmates is now your neighbour!"

Before I have time to question or wonder who it might be, a familiar figure comes out from the door across from ours, holding a plate full of biscuits.

"Grandpa, the biscuits are ready. Couldn't you have waited for me to-"

"Talbott!" I gasp, feeling my cheeks blushing furiously.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you guys enjoyed today's chapter! Please, leave a review or send me a private message, so I can know your thoughts on it. I'll love to know your opinion!

* Top of the World, by Carpenters.


	86. Year 5: Chapter 2 - Of Birds and Bees

**A/N:** Hello, beautiful people! How are you doing today? I am so, so happy that you guys enjoyed last week's chapter. I wanna send some special thanks to **Flavia Coelho** , **iNiGmA** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **Thalia** , **serendipitymadness** and **TimeIsAStrateticWaltz**. You guys are incredible. I hope you enjoy today's chapter too. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Two – Of Birds and Bees**

 _All along it was a fever_

 _A cold sweat hot-headed believer_

 _I threw my hands in the air and said "Show me something"_

 _He said "If you dare, come a little closer"*_

* * *

There are plenty of things to keep me awake in the dead of night. Plenty of thoughts to steal my breath away, bring colour to my cheeks and make my heart surrender to the silence of the void. As I stare at the ceiling, watching the streetlights create dancing patterns over the white canvas, I feel my breath growing heavier as my lids grow lighter. My eyes are wide open to nightfall environment, where I'm surrounded by softness and silkiness, holding onto the black cat the lies asleep upon my chest.

I sense something in the wind that enters through my opened window. It's a flaming sensation that never ceases to burn. At least, not since the night that I found out that he's so incredibly close. If I take a few steps, I could probably reach his room. Yet, many walls separate my longing heart from the beauty of his garnet eyes.

Memories from the day that Talbott and his grandfather – who insisted that we should call him Phil – walked through our door and sat with us for tea and biscuits linger fresh in my mind. It felt like something from another world; a different and distant reality, that didn't seem to belong to me. Only in my wildest dreams I'd have him entering my house, because such thing didn't seem to make sense when compared to the distant and lonely Talbott that I was friends with at school.

Dad grew immediately attached to Phil. Having a Muggle background, he was thrilled to discuss The Rolling Stones, Sean Connery movies and if Margaret Thatcher was doing a good job as prime minister. Phil, while excitedly talking to Dad about his thoughts on Ronald Reagan, didn't look or sounded at all like his grandson, that was quietly sitting next to me. While Phil was paler and with joyful wide green eyes, Talbott was tanner and serene looking. Phil was bulkier and enthusiastic, and Talbott was thin and more contained. Phil kept talking jollily about his trip to Australia with Talbott, while his grandson kept staring at the biscuits in the tray as if they were going to come to life.

When the teapot was empty and there were no more biscuits to nib, I offered to do the dishes as Dad and Phil moved to the living room to continue their discussion about the new Buick Reatta or whatever that was. I was left in the kitchen with Edgar, that decided to lodge on the table and try to poke Talbott's arm as he turned to observe me.

"In a scale of one to ten," I said, trying to start a conversation while adding soap to the sponge. "How awkward was this?"

He snickered bashfully. "I think it trespassed the limit."

"It didn't go as planned, did it?"

"Not really," he says, standing up, grabbing a dish towel to help me dry them. "I honestly don't know what I was expecting. When the doorman told us about the widower that had just moved in with his daughter that had returned from a boarding school in Scotland, we already presumed it was someone from Hogwarts. My grandfather wanted to know all about it, but all the man knew was the surname Lockhart and something about a very strange pet owl."

"Let me guess. The owl was the key for you to figure out it was me," I said, and he nodded. "So, you know Twilight more than you know me."

"Don't worry," he said. "We have the whole summer ahead to get to know each other."

My eyes met his – such intense rubies – and I found myself blushing a little. The butterflies began their unhinged dance inside my stomach, making me wish that I hadn't eaten so many biscuits. It was those same butterflies that I was trying to suffocate with the buttery cookies, and they were planning their revenge. Talbott's lips curled in an amused smile, making me feel nauseated, dizzy and extremely out of place.

We remained silent for a while, only surrounded by the sound of the running water and Dad and Phil's laughter in the adjacent room. When the distinct scent of spices entered the kitchen, I knew that they were smoking cigars. From time to time, Talbott and I would exchange amused glances, but said nothing more. He seemed to be glad that Dad and Phil were getting along, and I was feeling anxious to the thought that I'd be seeing him every single day.

It was almost midnight when Talbott and Phil left our apartment. Dad and Phil were so engaged in their conversation that they didn't even notice when I sat with Talbott in the balcony to play some Wizard's Chess. They left with an empty tray of biscuits as Talbott flashed me a secretive smile, making me blush furiously. Once the door was fully closed and we heart the door across the hall closing too, Dad turned to look at me, bearing the most serious expression that I had ever seen.

"Athena, are you and Talbott having sex?" he asked, unceremoniously, and not even if my cheeks were ablaze they would become as red as they got.

"Dad!" I gasped, exasperated. "No!"

"Something is obviously going on between you two," he affirmed. "Your mother and I had this talk with Jacob, but we never got the chance to talk to you. Are you being safe?"

"Oh my God!" I said, running my fingers nervously along my hair. "Dad, there's nothing going on between Tal and I."

"Tal, eh? I'm no fool, Athena," he said. "I saw the way he was looking at you. And the way you were looking at him! No one exchange such intense stares when nothing is going on!"

"Oh my God, Dad," I said, crashing on the nearest armchair. "Do you want the truth, Dad? No, Tal and I are not… doing it. We're not even dating, okay?"

" _Yet_ ," he said. "I'm not saying that I disapprove, Athena. I just want you to be smart here."

I stared at my hands, feeling extremely uncomfortable. The fact that Dad had noticed my secretive glances towards Talbott was the confirmation that this would no longer be a secret of ours. How long until he would find out about Tal's vampiric heritage? How long until he'd know about our illegal Animagi adventures?

I sighed. "You don't need to give me this lecture, Dad. Madam Pomfrey already did it… in a very traumatizing and unsolicited way."

He crossed his arms, looking at me with an expression that was a mixture of distrust and concern. "Is Talbott the first… boy you've ever liked?"

I looked at him, feeling my cheeks burning. "Yes."

" _Athena_ ," he said, adding a lot of emphasis to my name.

I sighed. "No."

"Was it that boy I saw with you that time in the Leaky Cauldron?"

"How do you know all these things?" I asked, in disbelief.

"I'm your father, Athena," he said. "I may not be here twenty-four seven, but I am paying attention."

I grunted in consternation, throwing my head back, resting it against the back of the chair. Dad continued to stare at me, giving me the certainty that our conversation was not over.

"That boy…" he said.

"Barnaby."

"Yes, Barnaby," he continued. "Did the two of you had sex?"

" _What?_ " I gasped. " _No!_ "

"Were you dating?"

"No," I said. "Yes. I don't know. It was complicated."

"How?" he asked, finally sitting in the armchair next to me.

I sighed. "We… kissed in the Halloween party. But then… I don't know. I think I wasn't ready to have a boyfriend."

"But you are ready now," he said, in an assumption.

"I don't know. Things are different now."

"Why are they different now?" he asked.

I looked away, staring at the rain that had started to pour, hitting against the window. "Now I have you. Now Jake is… closer. Last year I was just… I don't know. It wasn't the right moment."

He rested his hand on my knee and I looked at him, as his preoccupied yet understanding eyes, and it made me feel a little less uncomfortable.

"I know what it's like to be a teen," he said. "I just want to make sure that you won't do anything that you might regret later."

"I know, Dad," I said, bashful.

"And Talbott looks like a nice guy. A little shy, but nice," he said. "I mean, Phil also seems like a great guy, so he probably raised his grandson well. And if he didn't… Well, at least I know where they live."

I giggled.

"He seems to be very much in love with you," he said, flashing me that paternal smile, and I can't help but to smile too.

"Really?"

"He was looking at you like you were his very own sun."

I looked down, feeling my cheeks burning again. Dad got up, running his fingers through his hair and then released a long sigh.

"This is going to be a _long_ summer," he said, placing a kiss on the top of my head. "Goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Dad," I said. "Thanks for the awkward talk."

"Anytime!" he said, entering his bedroom and closing the door behind him.

I remained sitting there for almost ten minutes before finally going back to my bedroom. The awkwardness of the day and the many feelings that occurred are what keep me awake now, almost two hours later, wondering what this summer has in store for me. I can't help but to feel the adrenaline running through my veins with the single thought that Talbott lives next door and that, despite of all his worries, my Dad approves of him.

Rowan's words mix with my Dad's, swirling through my mind like an Indian mantra on repeat, telling me that Talbott _definitely_ has feelings for me. Though he never confirmed anything, I don't even think he would. He seems like the kind to leave things hovering the landscape; telling you silently, like a soft pouring drizzle, that you are his very own sun.

Edgar stretches out over my chest and his paw ends up being rested upon my mouth. I kiss his warm pads, enjoying the serenity of being home, the excitement of being closer to finding Jake, and the thrill that, someday, it will be Talbott's lips rested against mine.

* * *

I hesitate to go to Lockhart Gardens on the following morning. I wait for Dad to leave to work and rush to take a steamy fragrant shower, spraying on some perfume afterwards. I've never felt the urge to look so fixed up, but now I kinda want to look nice in case Talbott decides to show up with another tray of biscuits. When I was hanging out with Barnaby, I didn't pay much care to my looks. Now, on the other hand, while staring at myself in the mirror, I can already spot many things that could be perfected.

That's why, instead of rushing to my grandparents' house as I would probably do if I wasn't so desperate to look good, I decide to take a walk and pay a trip to a beauty store that is a couple of blocks away from the apartment. I close the door, my eyes lingering on the door across the hall, and leave, wondering if he's still asleep and, if so, if he's dreaming of me.

The store that I go to is huge and though it's only nine in the morning, there are already a lot of women in there, trying on lipsticks and testing eyeshadow palettes. I walk awkwardly to the Revlon stand, where a lot of beautiful lipsticks are lined, showing their intense colours. My eyes are immediately drawn to the most eye-catching red, which is called Red Hot Red. I stare at myself in the little mirror on the table, staring at my electric blue eyes, pale skin and light-blonde hair, and wonder if I would look good in a red lipstick. I move my head around, looking at myself from a few different angles, and decide that no. Probably not.

I end up buying a pinkish colour called Cherries In The Snow, and, just because I couldn't resist, I also got a mascara and some nail lacquers. As I'm walking back home, I stop in front of a lingerie store. My cheeks burn when I remember my father's questioning whether I was sleeping with Talbott or not. With the thrill and anticipation of someday being close enough to kiss him, I had never payed much thought to what could happen next. I stare at the mannequins by the window, dressed in sexy bras and lacy panties, and find myself facing a part of me that I was unaware of its existence. Before I'm even able to tell myself that I'm being silly, I enter the story.

"Good morning, my dear!" a short chubby woman greets me, her big curls framing her rounded face. "How can I help you?"

I look at her and then at the many bras hanging in the clothing rails next to her, feeling hesitant and extremely embarrassed. "I'm not sure."

"How old are you, dear? If my asking is okay."

I blink a few times before answering. "Fifteen."

"If this going to be your first bra?"

"Hmm… not really," I say. "I got my first ones a few years ago and… well… never really shopped for new ones after that."

She lifts her perfectly plucked eyebrows in complete disbelief, and then opens a warm smile. "You're in good hands, dear. Now come with me. We have some measurements to take."

I follow her to one of the dressing rooms. It has a huge mirror and a pink ottoman in the corner, where I leave my bag. The woman, who presents herself as Kathy, asks me to withdraw my dress, so she can check out the situation.

I suddenly feel very exposed, only covered by my unmatching white panties and flowery peach bra. Kathy grabs a measuring tape from her pocket and starts measuring me. I'm taken back to Olivanders, back when he measured me to find the perfect wand for me. I state at Kathy, who's deeply concentrated and pensive, and wonder if she has the slightest notion that she's helping a teenage witch.

"Well, the bra you're wearing is a good first one," she tells me. "However, it is completely unflattering now. Let's try a few different shapes and see what looks best on you."

She leaves and returns shortly after, holding a bunch of different bras for me to try. She politely turns around whenever I take one off to put on another one, but quickly turns to inspect them and see if they fit properly. She analyses me like a jeweller eyeing a precious gem to see if it's perfectly lapidated. Her skilful hands check for any empty spaces around the cups, check if it's too tight or too loose and, from time to time, she flashes me a warm smile.

"It seems that bralettes suit you better, dear," she tells me, handing me a few different ones. The lace is incredibly comfortable, and she helps me choose the colours that look better on me. "Blue, of course. They will make your eyes even bluer. And this purple one too. This burgundy one will also look great."

My cheeks burn at the slight of the beautiful burgundy lace as I remember that it is Talbott's favourite colour. Kathy doesn't notice my embarrassment, because she quickly adds: "Do you want to take the matching panties too?"

I nod, feeling extremely awkward when she shows me the beautiful lace boy shorts that match the bras. I swallow hard as I pay for them and thank Kathy for all the help. I remain incredibly self-conscious all the way back to the apartment, as if I'm carrying something forbidden inside my shopping bags. I head straight to my room, store the new underwear in a drawer and sit at my chair, breathing heavily as I spread all the new makeup items on top of the desk.

Applying the lipstick is easy; it isn't so different than adding chapstick or lip floss. It's just a bit richer and the colour shows up more. Now, applying mascara is no easy thing. I almost stab myself in the eye five times before finally finishing, but when I'm done, I'm left with beautiful and long black lashes, that make my eye colour even more pronounced.

I brush my hair and spray on more of my Sweet Honesty perfume, that makes me smell like hyacinths and roses. I take one last look in the mirror and realise that all the makeup didn't do anything for my nervousness. I continue to look scared and somewhat anxious. I wink at my own reflection, trying to look flirtatious, but I end up feeling extremely ridiculous and my cheeks get all red again. The thought of the sensual lace hidden in my wardrobe drawer makes my heart pound and I almost fall down my chair when I hear a knock on the front door.

I tell my heart to slow down as I race to the door; my hand shaking as I reach for the knob. I don't know why I'm waiting – and wanting – for it to be Talbott, but I get fairly surprised when I meet a very intrigued pair of crinkled blue eyes.

"Good morning, my pretty damsel," Grandpa says, pulling me for a hug.

"Grandpa!" I say, surrounded by the scent of vanilla and tobacco. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, you didn't show up after your father went to work, so I decided to check if you were okay," he says with a smile. "And I also thought that maybe you could show me the neighbourhood."

"Oh, so you came here under false pretext," I reply with a smirk.

"Does a grandfather need to have a reason to spend some time with his granddaughter?" he asks me. "Also, I've heard that there's a Captain Black store nearby. I thought maybe we could go there and then have some ice cream later."

"You came for the tobacco," I play, shaking my head. "Have you no shame, Grandpa?"

"C'mon! Their cherry tobacco is incredible!"

I smile, grabbing my purse and my keys. He offers me his arm and I leave with him, not before flashing a longing gaze towards the number 902.

* * *

I spend the loveliest morning with my grandfather. We stroll around the neighbourhood, buy a bunch of tobacco at Captain Black, eat ice cream while walking by the beach and, finally, have lunch together at The Gingerman. Grandpa even gets me a huge box of chocolates at Montezuma's and walks with me joyfully back to the apartment.

"And that's why you should never feed radishes to a Kneazle," he tells me, looking all lively and happy. "Thank you, my dear, for the wonderful morning," he adds, kissing my forehead. "And remember that you can come to Lockhart Gardens anytime you want. Don't leave me thinking that you've been kidnapped or something."

"Okay, Grandpa," I say with a smile. "I'll show up tomorrow."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he says, poking me in the nose.

"Thank you for the chocolates," I say.

He winks. "Aye, Captain," he says, showing me the bag full of tobacco packages, and disapparates.

I reach for my keys, feeling light and happy, and my heart almost jumps out of my mouth when the 902 door suddenly opens, revealing a very intrigued Talbott. He looks both ways, analysing the corridor, and then looks at me. His hair is looking messy and he even has some sheet wrinkles on his cheek. His eyes, however, seem to glisten under the fluorescent lights.

"I heard a snap," he says. "Are you doing magic outside of school?"

"Of course I am," I say, rolling my eyes. "Aren't we allowed to do that?"

He smirks. "Very funny."

"Were you still asleep?" I ask, and he promptly runs his fingers through his hair, probably becoming conscious of their messy condition.

"Yeah," he says. "I like to sleep until late when I can. I was up until six a.m., actually."

I lift my brows. "Really? Doing what?"

"Writing. I find that the night is more inspiring than the day."

I smirk. "Spoken like a true vampire."

He blushes, probably remembering our little moment back in the Forbidden Forest. An awkward silence hovers us for almost a minute and during the entire time, I feel aware of the lacy undies that are hidden inside my bedroom drawers and the fact that I applied makeup for the first time in my life, just to impress him. His eyes move from my face and then to the floor, repeating this embarrassed pattern until he decides to speak.

"You look…" he starts, and I notice that his cheeks get a little red. My heart starts to beat faster, and I wonder what he's about to say. "Do you… have plans for today? I made muffins. We could… hmm… watch some movies and… hmm…"

"I'd love to," I say, eager to spend as much time as I can near his adorable awkwardness.

His lips curl in a smile. "As I quite remember, one of your favourite movies is Star Wars. Lucky for you, I have all three of them in here."

I smile. "Sounds like it's going to be a long movie marathon."

"I'll prepare some snacks," he says.

"I'll…" I say, feeling the awful butterflies annoying my stomach again, coming back unsolicited, making me feel nauseated with the thought of spending the whole afternoon next to him. "I'll be right back."

"I'll leave the door unlocked," he says and then winks at me before disappearing behind the number 902.

I rush to my bedroom – heart in hand – and rest my back against the door. I am almost hyperventilating; my heart is beating impressively fast and the adrenaline rush is to intense that I begin to feel a little airheaded.

 _Okay… Relax. You are just going to watch some movies. Nothing more. No reason to be nervous. Okay, but what if he tries to kiss me? Do I even remember how to do it? Okay… Breathe._

My eyes move to the drawer where I left my new acquisitions. I tell myself that it's a stupid idea – we're just going to watch some movies, for Fawkes' sake -, but I end up changing the boring, unmatching underwear I'm wearing, for the blue lacy set that looks invisible under my periwinkle dress. I brush my teeth and reapply my new lipstick, grab the box of chocolates that Grandpa gave me to share with Talbott and also to try to pretend that I did something else besides just trying to look like a Barbie doll.

My hands are shaking as I reach for the knob to enter his place. I'm no idea what to expect – definitely not coffins and bats hanging from the ceiling – and my eyes widen when I finally find out what was lurking behind the 902 door. There's a big ivory sofa in front of a tv and I notice several snacks – including a tray of blueberry muffins – placed on a coffee table. The ceiling fan is making the living room all airy and cool, and I notice that Talbott even placed a thin fleece blanket on the arm of the sofa, making my cheeks burn intensely.

He comes out of the kitchen, holding two ice cold glasses of soda, and leaves them on the coffee table. He heads to the tv, pushes the VHS tape into the player and sits down, inviting me to join him. He presses the play on the remote and the nearness of him makes me very aware of the warmness and wonderful scent that emanates for him, making me sit very stiff and feel awfully nervous. He throws the blanket over our legs and then looks at me with a smirk upon his lips. I barely notice the movie's intro, because I'm completely hypnotized by his eyes. I hear the sound of the trumpets playing, but I don't feel like turning my face to read the words that move across the screen. In a galaxy far, far away, I am lost in his eyes.

"What's on your mind?" he asks, softly, and my cheeks immediately get ablaze.

"Nothing," I say, feeling all kinds of chills running through my body.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," he quotes.

He eyes me with a smirk upon his lips and then frowns.

"You look cold. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie again, because I won't admit that the cold that I'm feeling are just some extremely uncomfortable shivers that insist on tormenting me.

"Come here," he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer.

I lose my breath.

 _Oh my God._

I rest my head on his chest and a smile runs through my lips when I listen the loud drumming of his heart. He doesn't say anything; he simply starts to caress the point where his hand meets my arm, causing shivers that make my own heart beat uncontrollably. He smells of cinnamon and nutmeg, and the heat that emanates from his body makes me feel safe and comfortable. He rests his cheek against my head, and I smile, happy to spend my day with him.

After a while, he moves away to reach for the glass of soda, but quickly pulls me back to his arms, this time lodging on the sofa. He throws his arm around me, holding me against his body, and we watch all the three movies, varying positions and stopping from time to time to refill our glasses. Somewhere during The Empire Strikes back, on the intense scene between Leia and Han, Talbott speaks with Leia in unison.

"I love you," he quotes, making my heart beat faster.

I smirk. "I know," I say with Han.

By the time we finish the last movie, the sun has already set. The night sky is dotted by a myriad of sparkling stars as I help him clean everything. We even improvise a quick lightsabre battle with the forks and end up laughing over it. He walks me back to the door and then, unceremoniously, holds my hand.

His eyes glisten, looking as hypnotic as in the day that he leaned over and placed his vampire kiss upon my neck. However, unlike Dracula or any other midnight leech, his skin emanates an extremely inviting warmth. I can't help but to lose myself inside those rubies, feeling as if they're pulling me closer. I feel like a helpless moth, completely drawn to a flame. He is a magnet and I just can't move away.

"I'm not going to kiss you," he says, and I feel my heart stop. "If I do, I'll want more, and I won't be able to sleep knowing what your lips taste like."

Talbott is the only one capable of making my heart stop and then starting to beat uncontrollably right after. My legs threaten to melt when he shortens the distance between us and places a dangerous kiss on my cheek. He lingers in place for a moment, long enough to bewitch me completely by his numbing scent, and then whispers, like a secret, only for me: "Goodnight… _ma chère_."

He waits for me to close the door, leaving him standing in the hallway and a piece of my heart with him.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please, leave a review so I can know your opinion! :D

* Stay, by Rihanna.


	87. Year 5: Chapter 3 - Days in the Sun

**A/N:** Hello, my beautiful lovelies! How are you doing today? I'm so glad that you guys enjoyed last week's chapter. I hope you like today's too. I wanna send some special thanks to **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **Son of Whitebeard** , **FlaviaCoelho** and **serendipitymadness.** Thank you so, so much for all the love and support. Now let's head to the chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Three – Days in the Sun**

 _Underneath and unexplored_

 _Islands and cities, I have looked_

 _Here I saw something I couldn't overlook_

 _I am yours now*_

* * *

I send a letter to Rowan before going to sleep. I need to tell her everything that happened; to take it out of my mind somehow. My heart, racing the entire time, makes me unable to hold the quill steady. From time to time I have to stop, rest the quill inside the inkpot, and take deep breaths. I've never felt so out of my element as I do right now. The place on my cheek where he left his goodnight kiss continues to burn; a reminder of the promises of tomorrow.

Now, while lying on my bed and remembering the day we spent together, I can't help but feel my cheeks getting hot and a smile from blossoming in my lips. I can't believe that a while ago I didn't even know he existed. He managed to show me freedom, be my guardian and partner in deadly adventures, and become the reason for my unhinged heartbeat in a matter of months. Now, he's all I seem to think about.

I wonder how things are going to be like when we return to school after the summer. How different are things going to be? Will my friends easily accept him in our group? Will he even _want_ to be part of our group? Will I be able to conciliate my duty as Quidditch Captain, O.W.L.s studies, curse-breaking _and_ a boyfriend without losing my mind?

I sigh in the darkness.I have endured so much during the course of the last four years. I won't let anything else prevent me from being in peace. I'll fight hard to find my brother, but this time I know that I'm able of focusing my energy in more than just one task. I'm going to push myself into being what I've always dreamed: a wise witch. Above all, I'll pursue my happiness.

* * *

I'm preparing the breakfast table when Dad comes out from his bedroom, all dressed up in his dark-green robes. He sits next to me and begin spreading Marmite all over his toast as I pour some steaming green tea in his cup. When he smiles joyfully at me, I feel a little guilty for not sharing the day I spent with Talbott. However, after his extremely embarrassing talk about birds and bees, I think I'm going to wait a little white to discuss things with him.

So, instead of talking about Talbott, I decide to talk about something, hopefully, won't distress him as much: my brother.

"Dad," I begin, taking a sip of my tea. "I think it's time for us to talk about-"

"Sex?" he asks, lifting his brows. "What you need to understand, honey, is that when the female Erumpent and the male Erumpent meet, their sort of-"

" _What? Dad, no!_ " I gasp, blushing furiously. "I want to talk about Jake. More specifically, about how we're going to get him back."

"Oh," he says, giggling short after. "Yes, yes. I think it's time for us to talk about it. Specially about your reckless adventures in school."

I swallow hard. "W-what do you mean?"

"Don't get me wrong, darling. I think it's remarkable that you're trying to rescue your brother, but I don't think that I'll be able to sleep knowing that you're in school, getting yourself into all sorts of danger."

"That's why I want to talk to you about it," I say. "Grandpa has been helping me and I must say that without his aid, I wouldn't have gotten this far. I can't let the teachers solve this problem and if you talk to Grandpa, he'll agree."

"Because of the Moaning Myrtle thing? Oh, honey, that was a long time ago. These things don't happen often in Hogwarts."

"No, Dad. They do. The curses unleashed by the Cursed Vaults are life-threatening. People died because of them. People were seriously injured."

"And that's why I don't want you wandering around, looking for these deathly curses, Athena," he says.

"I know it's dangerous, but I'm more than capable of facing them," I argue. "I'm not doing this recklessly. I study and prepare for every single challenge. I ask Grandpa for help whenever I'm feeling hopeless. My friends are in this with me, so I'm not alone. And above all, I'm the only one who can do this."

"This is the exact hero-syndrome speech that your brother gave us before he disappeared," Dad says, exasperated. "I don't want that you go missing too."

"I won't go missing, Dad. I won't make the same mistakes as Jake. I know that I can do this. I need you to have faith in me and I need your help. I need to know that I can count on you."

He scratches his head, pensive. "I don't know…"

"Please, Dad. Be with me. I'm so close." I say, firmly. "I won't give up on Jake. Every year that goes by, his presence gets stronger and his voice gets louder."

He frowns. "What do you mean by… louder?"

"I can hear him," I tell him. "Every Vault I enter… every curse I break… it's like he's there. He's been guiding me. Warning me. I feel like I could touch him, but he's not there."

Dad's eyes exhale surprise. "Where is he, Athena? Do you know where he is?"

"Not quite," I say. "He's trapped in the next Vault, but its location it's still unknown to me."

He looks away and I can see, little by little, the determination building in his irises. "Tell me everything. I'll be with you, every step of the way."

My lips curl in a smile. Now that I have Grandpa and Dad with me, as my own guardian angels, I feel stronger than ever, like I'm capable of facing any situation. With the exception, perhaps, of sharing the things that Talbott said, right before leaving me with flushed cheeks and a racing heart.

* * *

I'm folding some laundry before heading to Lockhart Gardens. Dad doesn't believe in letting magic and elves do all the work and, weirdly, I feel glad for it. The repetitive task makes me able to fluidly daydream about Talbott without doing anything wrong. I grab one of my Dad's shirts and fold it, placing it atop the flawless pile of his clothes. As I'm folding the underwear that I wore the day before – that I strangely longed for Talbott to see -, I hear the sound of wings near my window. My eyes widen when I see the immense bird that is trying to come in and I almost fall back, panting.

"Good Merlin!" I gasp, almost jumping out of my skin. I sit on the edge of my bed, breathing heavily, as Edgar runs to hide behind my pillows. "Are you insane?"

The eagle leaps and, while still in the air, twirls and turns to become the very reason for my absentmindedness. Talbott's feet meet the floor gracefully and then he sits by the window seat, eyeing me with amusement and a smirk upon his lips.

"Distracted?" he asks.

I roll my eyes, quickly shoving the folded underwear underneath my pile of clothes.

"What was keeping your mind so busy?" he asks, getting up and walking to me. His warm perfume immediately makes my heart race.

I look at him. "Eagles. Did you know that they are very obnoxious birds?"

His lips curl in a smile. "What are your plans for today?"

I turn to continue my task. "I'm going to my grandparents'."

"Oh," he says, clearly frustrated. "I baked some chocolate cookies. I thought that maybe we could take a walk on the beach and then… maybe have some tea."

I smile. "We can still do that… if you come with me."

"Where? To your grandparents'? Are you sure? I thought you said that eagles are obnoxious birds."

I finish folding the last piece of clothing and turn to face him. "They are. But they are also wonderful bakers."

He snickers. "I bake when I get anxious."

"Do you get anxious often?"

"Not really," he says. "But the anticipation of kissing you made me very, very nervous."

I blush. "Really? You seemed pretty calm."

"I wasn't," he says, risking a step closer. "So, we're going to your grandparents'. What's on your mind?"

"I thought we could go to the beach… maybe take a walk through the gardens… tea and cookies later…"

 _Some kissing…_

"Sounds good to me," he says, walking back to the window.

"You could use the front door, you know," I say.

He winks. "Yes, but that wouldn't be nearly as fun," he says, and then turns back into an eagle and flies towards the morning sky.

I sit down, trying to slow my heartbeat as Edgar leaves his hiding spot, climbs on my shoulder and starts to chew a lock of my hair. I sigh, resting my hand over my chest, wondering why he's teasing me so much. Barnaby straightforwardly asked me to be his first kiss, whereas Talbott exhales so much mystery and, like he said, anticipation, that my heart can barely take it.

I put on my swimsuit – just a plain baby-blue one-piece – and throw a white dress with lemon print on top. I put my hair in a bun, throw some sunscreen, a towel and my sunglasses inside a bag and while I'm applying my new pink lipstick, I hear a knock on the door.

This time, instead of my grandfather longing for some new tobacco, it is actually Talbott, looking handsome in his white t-shirt and blue swimming trunks. He smiles at me, showing the container full of chocolate cookies that he's carrying.

"Ready?" I ask, inviting him to enter. We head to my father's office, straight to the fireplace that will leads us to my grandparents' house. "Just say "Lockhart Gardens" and you'll get there."

He nods. "I'll be right after you."

I grab a handful of Floo Powder, already feeling my nose tingling with the dust, and enter the fireplace. The last thing I see before throwing the powder on the ground and calling the address, is Talbott's amused smirk.

I close my eyes, being silently transported straight to the fireplace in my grandparents' living room. I dust my clothes, stepping on the fluffy rug to leave some space for Talbott to arrive. He shows up shortly after, his garnet eyes quickly scanning the unfamiliar room before risking any step further.

"Athena, my angel!" Grandma says, entering the living room and rushing to place a kiss on my forehead. "I'm so happy you're here."

Grandpa comes right after her, carrying a suitcase. "Hello, my darling," and places a kiss on my hand.

"Grandma, Grandpa, this is Talbott," I say, indicating the tall and blushing boy standing next to me.

"Talbott Winger," he says with a respectful bow. "I'm Athena's friend from Ravenclaw."

"Ah, a fellow Ravenclaw!" Grandpa says, excitedly. "Do you play on the house team as well?"

"No, sir," Talbott says. "I'm not very skilled in Quidditch. I'm more of a… bird enthusiast, to be honest."

"Wait a minute," Grandpa says, scratching his chin. "Winger… as in Lucy Winger?"

Talbott's smile fades a little. "Yes. She's my mother."

"She was an incredible magiornithologist. I have every book she's ever published."

"She was truly wonderful," Grandma says.

A silence full of memories and longing falls upon us, as Talbott and Grandpa stare at each other with compassion and comprehension. Grandma, however, starts to show signs of restlessness, like she always gets after long awkward silences.

"Well, then," she says. "It was lovely to meet you, Talbott. Athena, my dear, we'll have to leave you alone today. We're going to Germany to get some hard to find ingredients from the Black Forest. We'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Is Holly going with you?" I ask.

"Oh, no. She's out getting more butter," Grandpa says, amused. "Your grandmother got her a book about French pastries and now she's baking nonstop since last morning. Prepare for some very delicious éclairs."

"You kids have fun," she says, placing another kiss on the top of my head.

They leave shortly after, leaving Talbott and I alone in the living room, buried in an awkward silence. I wish I could know what he's thinking; is it's about his mother, about his nervousness or – the option I wish for the most – about us. He looks at me with a smirk and my heart skips a beat. In the background, like a whisper in the wind, I can hear the ocean.

"C'mon," I say. "I want to show you the beach."

We leave his cookies on the kitchen table and take the back door that leads to a stone pathway bordered by many summery flowers. We walk among the celosias, cosmoses and poppies, and though there's an unsaid uneasiness installed between us, it is undeniable that being next to him makes me feel wonderfully special.

"I like the blue ones," he says, indicating the blue cosmoses growing among the daisies. "They're like an echo of your eyes."

My cheeks blush. His eyes seem to sparkle under the shining sun; like magically rare red diamonds. I don't even know how I'm able to walk after such pronouncement. My eyes look for him and I have to find my voice, hidden somewhere behind my racing heart.

"You have a wonderful way with words," I tell him. "They're always so… poetic."

"I told you we had the whole summer ahead to know each other," he says. "Here's something you don't know about me. I do love poetry."

"You do?" I say, surprised.

As our feet finally meet the golden sands, he finds a place to sit near the colorful morning glories and look at me with speckles of sunshine. I sit in front of him, watching him take a little book from his pocket. He crosses his legs and opens the book and browse through it until he finally stops, a subtle smile upon his lips. He looks at me and then back at the book, making my heart burn with anxiety. A gentle flush run across his cheeks as he finally speaks:

"I wrote this last night," he says, lifting his eyes. "I couldn't stop thinking of you."

My heart beats even faster and I realize that I'm barely breathing. I draw the shape of his lips as his eyes get lost in the words in front of him. He begins to read in the most bewitching and melodic voice and nothing in that moment could make me more wishful for his lips.

"I lose myself in the depths of sapphires. I count their tones as it all goes silent. I long for the melody that echoes in my dreams. I am constantly numbed by what is left unsaid. A thousand roses would lack in perfume. A thousand days would not be enough. I am craving for her, yet these preludes are what I am constantly daydreaming of."

With the exception, perhaps, of this.

My mind is so enchanted by his words that I can't even refrain myself from leaning forward – as his mouth pronounces the last syllables – and pressing my lips against his.

I can feel his surprise – the tension behind his lips -, but as soon as the next wave breaks upon the shore, he kisses me back. In that very moment I understand why Mina was so fascinated by Dracula… why Laura was mesmerized by Carmilla… why Olivia Turner wanted Lorcan d'Eath so badly. Though he isn't turning to ashes under the flaming sun, his skin is ablaze. I can feel it when he rests a gentle hand on my neck, this thumb caressing my cheek. An eight of vampire heritage is enough to transport me back to the Forbidden Forest; to that dreary and gruesome den where he swept me off my feet. All the sensations of replenishment return, turning our summery kiss into a sea of emotions.

He tastes of cinnamon toothpaste. His lips are soft and velvety like a rose petal and when his tongue finally touches mine, I feel the world stop spinning. I feel his arms closing tighter around me, pulling me against his chest. He lays gently on the hot sands and I find a nest in his embrace. There's nowhere else – in the whole wide world – that I'd rather be, but right here with him. His lips against mine are one of the seven wonders of the universe… and I'm completely dazzled.

Hours pass – or maybe minutes… I can't tell anymore – until we finally let go of each other. His kissing was gentle, yet passionate – a fine line between lust and chivalry – and in the warmth and comfort of his arms I wanted to lose myself forever.

His eyes gaze deeply into mine – like flecks of rubies glistening among the sunbeams – as a smile rises upon his reddish lips. He curls his finger around a lock of hair that got loose from my bun.

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you… I could walk through my garden forever," he says, making me blush even more.

"You're quoting Tennyson," I say, finding my voice. I run my fingertips across his cheek. "You're fantastically romantic."

"Only for you, Bubo."

And just like that… I'm in love.

* * *

"So, the secret is salt flower?" Holly asks, mesmerized, covered by Talbott's chocolate cookie crumbs. "Remarkable."

"Yes, you sprinkle some on top," he says. "But what I really want to know is the secret to your croissants."

"I'm going to make more tea," she says, making a gesture for the kettle to reach the sink, fill itself with water and head to the stove.

The table is covered by Holly's baked goods. Her chocolate éclairs are displayed beautifully in a tall cake tray, the many chocolate croissants almost glisten under the chandelier and the many colourful macarons almost look too pretty to eat. Holly is excitedly talking to Talbott about French pastries, the many uses for butter and when to use the salted and unsalted version.

"I add salt to pretty much anything," he says. "It really brings out the flavour. Like adding chili pepper or coffee to chocolate sauces."

"My, my, that's a wonderful idea!" Holly says, taking note.

After more tea and chocolaty delights, as Talbott browses through Holly's cooking book, Holly pulls me aside, through the kitchen door that leads to her herb garden.

"I told you," she says, her lips curling into a clever smirk.

I roll my eyes, smiling. "I know."

"Time is the best cure for troubled feelings."

"Did you like him?" I ask, hopeful.

"Endlessly," she says. "It's refreshing to finally meet someone who can appreciate my baking."

"Oh, I' sorry if I can't fold dough and butter three hundred times to make flawless croissants," I say, and then pull her for a hug. "I'm so happy you liked him."

We return to the kitchen and Holly promptly begins to make a mille-feuille for us to take home later. I invite Talbott for a walk through the gardens and, as we leave the house and begin our walk on the green grass, he reaches out and holds my hand. A bolt of electricity seems to run through my body, making my heart beat fast again. He looks at me with wishful eyes as we stroll among flowery bushes, bearded barley and short trees. We find out way among the woods, watching the sun rays launch beautiful leafy patterns on the ground, until we reach a sunny grassy glade that ends in a short cliff with rocks on the bottom. Talbott stops near the edge, staring at the horizon with the ocean in his garnet eyes. A seagull flies near the waves and he watches it bird with a pinch of sorrow.

"Your father's Animagus form," I start, borrowing his sadness. "Was a seagull, right?"

He nods. "And my mother was a swan. Her name, Luscinia, means nightingale. Kind of funny when you think about it."

"Funny when you understand how marvellous birds can be."

He looks at me with an amused smile on his lips. "I thought you said birds are obnoxious creatures."

"No," I say, poking him with my elbow. "Only eagles."

He smiles, his eyes returning to the horizon, where a lonely isle seems to float absentmindedly upon the waters.

"Do you miss them?" I ask, holding my hands together, thinking about my mum.

He sighs, almost like a whisper in the wind. "Every single day."

His eyes return to me as he places a stubborn lock of my hair behind my ear. It is incredibly easy to lose myself inside his eyes; they're like portals to another dimension.

"What's on that island?" he asks, pointing the lonely island I was staring at a few moments ago.

I shrug. "I don't know."

"Want to find out?" he asks, lifting his brows.

I frown. "What do you mean? Like… flying there?"

He smirks and winks, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on my lips. As I open my eyes, completely wonderstruck, he leaps from the cliff, transforming in the air and flying towards the island faster than a bullet hitting the target.

"That's not fair!" I shout to the wind. "Eagles are faster than owls!"

I look around, feeling the adrenaline build in my veins. The only things that greet me are the trees, the grass and, as I turn around, an immensity of blue skies and turquoise waters. I take a few steps back, growing the courage inside of me. I hold my breath as I run towards the cliff, jumping to the blue immensity and feeling the familiar heartbeat that begs for a flight. I feel them calling for me… the feathers… the longing for freedom. My wings open to the bright blue sky and almost as if they're guiding me, I fly towards the island.

The sprinkles of seawater are refreshing like the summer wind that blows against my wings. I have to fly harder, feeling my heart drumming with the thrill, pushing myself to a limit that I didn't know that existed. There are few things that compare to this wondrous feeling. One of them is kissing Talbott, but it's still difficult to find other things that feel just as good.

I enjoy every minute of the marvellous feeling of the wind against my feathers and the owl inside me has been anxiously waiting for this feeling. The sky is an immensity of blues and wonders, and as the island gets closer, I can count the shades of green and the drops of pink and orange from the anemones that get exposed when the sea moves back to prepare for the next wave.

I try to mimic Talbott, trying to transform back while still in the air, but my lack of prepare makes me unable to land gracefully. I end up stumbling on my own feet and falling, being prevented from crumbling on the ground by Talbott's arms. He looks at me with an amused smile.

"This is becoming a tradition, huh?" he says, dragging me closer to him.

I roll my eyes as my cheeks get rosy. He holds me tight against his chest, getting nearer and nearer until all I see is the darkness behind my lids and all I feel is the sweetness of his kiss.

* * *

Just when I thought that the talk about the male and the female Erumpent was the peak of embarrassment, my dad managed to get me so mortified that all I wanted was to bury myself deep, deep in the ground.

"So, Talbott, what are your intentions with my daughter?" he asked after he caught me giving Talbott a kiss goodbye at the door. He promptly invited Phil and Tal for dinner, where they started to talk about our relationship.

Needless to say, Talbott got red as a chili pepper when Dad and Phil began their interrogatory. Being the shy and reserved guy that he is, it was no surprise that he would stutter every single word. Dad asked me if I was lying when I said that there was nothing going on between us, which made me confess that we had just exchanged our first kiss. What made everything worst – if that was even possible - was when he looked at me, very seriously, and asked me about my new lingerie.

"I'm not blind, Athena," he said. "I saw them in the drying rack. Are the two of you having sex?"

" _Dad!"_

"I'm not a fool, young lady. You mother used to wear the same thing when we started going steady."

Honestly? I felt like dying. I don't even know how I managed to eat during that conversation. Tal didn't even kiss me goodnight after that. He followed Phil back to their place, leaving me drowning in embarrassment in the presence of my dad.

"I do like this kid," he told me afterwards.

"Then why inquiring him like that?" I asked, exasperated. "I'll be shocked if he even wants to talk to me after this."

"Oh, he will," Dad said with an amused smile. "Remember, pumpkin, shy and dorky guys are the best. They tend to be more respectful. He'll probably be the one to contain _your_ impulses. If you're anything like your mother, you probably were the one to kiss him. Just remember to be smart."

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. I went back to my bedroom, ready to bury myself in the depths of despair, only to find Tal sitting on my bed. Though his cheeks were still flushed, there was also a diverted smile on his lips.

"I thought you'd never want to see me after that," I said, resting my back against my closed door.

"Oh, _ma chérie_ , it will take much more than just mortification to make me give up on you," he said, winking right after. "So… new lingerie, huh?"

"Oh, God," I said, looking down in pure embarrassment. "I've never begged for death so much as now."

He snickered and walked to me. When I avoided his eyes, he held my chin gently and made me look at him. His eyes, always so deep and intense, brought the butterflies back to my stomach. I had to lift my face to look at him; though he's not taller than Barnaby, he's way taller than I am, probably around 5'10''. He closed his arms around my waist, and I placed my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating unhinged behind his shirt.

"Did you really think about it?" he asked, and my cheeks blushed because I knew exactly what he was talking about. "With me?"

I bit my lip nervously. "I don't know. Kind of."

"I confess it crossed my mind a few times ever since I found myself in love with you," he said. "But like I said, I do love these preludes. Let's drown in them until the moment comes."

"You speak as if this is all a poem."

"It is," he said, ending the distance between us and placing a wonderful goodnight kiss on my lips.

 _It is…_

* * *

* Islands, by Shakira.


	88. Year 5: Chapter 4 - Ghouls and Flying Sk

**A/N:** Hello, beautiful people! I want to thank you all so much for all the love and support. It makes me super happy that you are enjoying Athena's year so far. I wanna send special shout outs to **iNiGmA** and **Sonny Daniels** for the sweet reviews on my previous chapter. I hope you enjoy today's too! As you guys know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Four - Ghouls and Flying Skulls**

 _How close is the ending, well, nobody knows_

 _The future's a mystery and anything goes_

 _Love is confusing and life is hard_

 _You fight to survive 'cause you made it this far*_

* * *

 _Dear Mrs. Winger,_

 _I'm only sending you this letter to let you know that I am drowning in pain. I miss Charlie with the intensity of a thousand suns and nothing – not even your delightful new love – will be able to appease my suffering. I only got to see him once, when my parents went to India to visit Aunt Pryia. Apparently, she's suffering from an old magical disease (could as well be chlamydia and I'd still give two craps about it). Mum was mad because I didn't want to go with them, but who cares about this Aunt that I've never seen before, when I had the opportunity to spend three wonderful days with my dragon knight? I have dozens of Aunts and Uncles, but only one Charlie. Of course, my parents know nothing about our relationship. Not that Charlie is pressuring me about it. He's truly wonderful, actually. What did I do to deserve such marvellous man?_

 _But enough about me. I want to know EVERYTHING about your summer with your eagle angel. What are you guys up to? Did you do anything else besides kissing? Talbott seems like the kind of guy that would wait for the perfect moment. You're raising too many questions here, Athie. Do me a favour and stop snogging Talbott and answer my letter. I'm dying to know more about this! And you cannot wait to tell me only when we return to school. You'll be too busy with your Captain duties and I'll be buried in my new job as a Prefect. I can't believe we won't sit in the same wagon anymore. So, please, answer my letter and make my life a little bit more colourful._

 _All my love,_

 _R. K. Weasley._

Summer is just like Talbott; a swift eagle flying towards the horizon. Before we can even realize, it comes to an end and we have to say goodbye to the peaceful days we had together and return to the chaos of Hogwarts. Despite its bittersweet taste, I got to spend a wonderful summer next to him. We relayed between the apartments in Brighton – his or mine – and Lockhart Gardens, where we enjoyed the beach, the gardens and the lonely island that was no longer lonely.

When we went to Diagon Alley to get the new school year's supplies, he went with me. I thought I'd be strange to have him around all the time, but it just felt right. He wasn't afraid to hold my hand or kiss me between the poetry books in Flourish & Blotts. He got the new Cosmo Winter poetry book - his favourite wizard poet – and read a few to me that same night, after we had dinner with Dad and Phil.

Dad didn't bring up any other embarrassing subjects. In fact, he seemed to rely on the fact that I was being smart and didn't even bother to check if we were doing something illicit while he was at work. That's why we got the spend some good days making out either on my bed or his.

When September 1st arrives, I head with him, Twilight and Edgar to King's Cross, where we get through the platform. As soon as our eyes meet the beautiful black and scarlet train, we hear chuffed screams calling for us. We turn around, seeing as Rowan and Charlie rush in our direction, their Prefect badges glistening under the lights. I feel Talbott's hand tightening in mine and his shoulders stiffening. I poke him with my elbow and flash him a reassuring smile. He smiles back, softly and kinda timid.

"Athena!" Rowan says, approaching us with a big smirk upon her lips. "What have you been up to?"

I swallow hard, thinking that I should've warned Talbott about my friends or, at least, warned Rowan about Talbott's shy and antisocial demeanour. I watch as he tries to relax in hers and Charlie's shiny presence.

"Rowan, Charlie, this is Talbott," I say, finally introducing them.

Charlie reaches out to shake Tal's hand. He's nearly a palm shorter than Talbott, but a lot bulkier and, of course, outgoing. I notice he's being careful to not hold Rowan's hand; in the background, I can see her parents and Aisha, her little sister, waiting for the time we'll depart.

"Talbott, is lovely to finally meet you," Rowan says. "Athie, it's a shame we won't sit in the same wagon anymore."

"At least you can sit with Charlie," I say, smiling. "And you'll get to do rounds together."

"Well, not really," she says. "I'll have to do rounds with James. Of course, Charlie and I will meet eventually, but I don't think we thought this through when we accepted the posts of Prefects."

"Oh, don't complain," I say. "This will all be worth it when you become the youngest professor at Hogwarts."

She smiles. "That's true. C'mon, honeybee. We must rush to the Prefects' wagon. Bye, Athie. Bye, Talbott."

I look at Tal, that has an amused smile on his lips. "You noticed that I didn't say a word, did you?"

I nod. "Rowan will always speak enough for everyone."

He wraps his arm around my neck and places a kiss on my forehead. "Let's find ourselves a wagon?"

The platform is crowded with students, parents and pets. I walk among families that are saying goodbye to their kids, cats that are running around and one or two hysterical owls. From the window of the compartment where we install ourselves, we wave goodbye to Grandma, Grandpa, Holly, Dad and Phil. Dad even points a threatening finger at Talbott, making him blush furiously and crash in the seat in front of me.

"Your father sure knows how to make me feel uncomfortable," he tells me.

I snicker. Out compartment door opens suddenly, revealing a very tanned Penny and a smaller version of her, all smiles and freckles, that stands next to her.

"Athena!" she says, opening a smile. Her eyes fall upon Tal. "And… Talbott."

Her pretty face twists in a frown, but quickly relaxes when her clever blue eyes seem to understand what's unrolling. So, she simply smirks and wraps her arm around the little girl's shoulders.

"I wanted to introduce you to my little sister," she says. "This is Beatrice. She's just starting at Hogwarts."

"Hello, Beatrice," I say. "I'm A-"

"You're Athena," Beatrice says in her soft melodic voice. "Penny's told me everything about you. I'm your greatest fan."

I look at Penny. "She did, huh?"

"I would love to go looking for the Cursed Vaults with you," Beatrice says, hopeful, her short blonde hair shaking with excitement. "Here, I made you this."

She withdraws something from her pocket and hands it to me. It's a round fluffy keychain, made of pink fun. Amidst all the fur I can spot a rounded face and two big lilac eyes.

"It's a Puffskein," she says. "I do love magical creatures. I can't wait to learn from Professor Kettleburn."

"Oh, but that will have to wait a few years, Bea," Penny says, stroking her sister's hair. "Thanks to a bunch of slimy Slytherins, Kettleburn's class is an elective for third years and up."

"Oh, bugger," Beatrice says, and Penny promptly reprehends her. "Sorry, sis."

"Now let's leave them alone, Bea," Penny says.

"Bye, guys. It was lovely to finally meet you, Athena."

"And Talbott," Penny says. "I'm glad you decided to leave your nest."

Talbott blushes as they close the door, leaving us alone again. His eyes look for mine, still a little tense, and he grabs his new poetry book from his jacket's pocket and holds it, hesitantly. I change seats, sitting next to him and resting my head on his arm. His inebriant scent makes me feel extremely hopeful.

"Read one for me," I ask, and he places a kiss on my hair, opening the book and looking for a poem to read.

" _Look at the stars_ ," he reads. " _So far away, up in the outlying sky. Yet, when I get lost in your eyes, there they are. They shine like glimmering gemstones; like the spellcraft that unlocked my chest. Amidst stars is my heart. Forever yours, forever ours, I'm spellbound._ "

* * *

The Great Hall's sky is full of glimmering starts, just like in the Cosmo Winter's poem that Talbott read for me. I sit between Rowan and him, waiting for the Sorting Ceremony to begin. In Hufflepuff's table, Penny seems to be waiting anxiously to see her little sister walk through the doors and become part of a house. From her daredevil personality, she could easily become a Gryffindor.

Rowan pokes me, indicating the teachers' table. "Did you see who's sitting there? Next to Flitwick?"

My jaw drops. Sitting next to our darling Charms professor and my dear choir maestro, is no other than Rakepick. I find myself closing my hands into fists, feeling the sudden uneasiness that comes with her presence. On the other side of the long table, I notice that Professor Snape looks just as annoyed.

The screaming thoughts in my head barely make room for me to notice the many kids that enter through the doors, looking scared and displaced as they each walk to the old Sorting Hat. Penny explodes in applauses and whistles when Beatrice is sorted into Hufflepuff. She runs happily to sit next to her big sister, but not even this happy sight is enough to make me feel relaxed. Tal notices my tension, because he runs his fingers through my hair and flashes me an understanding smile.

We turn to face the teachers' table when Professor McGonagall hits her fork against the crystal glass, producing a loud and melodic sound that echoes through the room.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," she starts.

"Where's Dumbledore?" I ask Rowan. "Why's he never here?"

"The Headmaster is attending to business elsewhere, so he has asked me to deliver this year's welcoming speech," Professor McGonagall says, answering my questions before Rowan has the chance to do so. "In recent years, we have been distracted by nonsense, and obsessed with threats both imagined and real."

From Hufflepuff's table, Beatrice flashes me an excited smile.

"No longer," Professor McGonagall continues, incisive. "Hogwarts is a place of learning, and it is our duty as students and teachers to respect and defend its purpose. First-year students are embarking on a journey to become the best witches and wizards they can be. This year, the fifth-year students will be taking their O.W.L.s examinations, which are critical to success in subsequent years. Whereas the seventh-year students will take their N.E.W.T.s, determining whether they succeed in the pursuit of their desired careers."

I look at Gryffindor's table, where Bill is sitting with his friends and his brothers, wearing his Head Boy badge. Though he looks proud, he also looks a little nervous.

"The staff is here to help you," Professor McGonagall says. "Including our new Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Rakepick."

Rowan holds my hand underneath the table.

"Please focus on your studies and realise that this year will determine the course of your wizarding career. So, no wandering around looking for trouble. Now, let's enjoy our feast," she concludes, sitting down.

It's hard to eat with Rakepick's eyes fallen upon me. She has her meal while staring at me like a hawk, making me feel more than uncomfortable. Somehow, she makes me feel like I'm in the presence of a dementor. I try my best to ignore her, focusing on the delicious mince pie that I eat for dinner. Though Hogwarts' feasts are always incredible, I spend my meal wishing for it to end, and when I finally walk with Talbott, Tulip and the rest of my Ravenclaw colleagues back to our tower, I can finally think straight. Unfortunately, Rowan stays behind with James to guide the first years through the correct path.

"What is that demoniac woman still doing here?" I ask Tulip, that flashes me a vexed expression.

"Dumbledore must be high on something," she says. "Hiring that woman and feeding us to the Giant Squid as sacrifices are synonyms."

"She spent the whole last year here and proved to be completely useless. What will she even be able to teach us as our professor?"

"Don't worry about it, Bubo," Talbott tells me when we reach the circular hall that leads to the dorms. "She won't last until the next school year. Everyone knows this position is cursed."

He holds my chin and places a kiss on my lips, wishing me goodnight. I enter my dorm and Tulip follows me, staring at me with a mischievous smirk. I try to ignore her, because I'm well aware that she'll tease me to death. So, I grab my pyjamas and my toothbrush and enter the bathroom. When I leave, she's lying on my bed, Rowan by her side.

"Bubo, huh?" Tulip says. "What's going on?"

"Athena has a boyfriend," Rowan tells her. "They've been snogging all summer."

Tulip lifts her brows. " _Really?_ How naughty."

I sigh, my cheeks flushing. "It wasn't naughty. It was… romantic."

"So, nothing happened?" Tulip asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She smirks, making me blush even more. "You know what I mean."

I swallow hard. "No. Nothing happened."

Rowan giggles. "Oh, but it will."

"Will it?" I say, placing my hands on my waist. "When will it happen between you and Charlie, Rowan?"

She blushes furiously. Tulip looks at her, gawked.

"It already happened!" she exclaims. "Holy Merlin, Rowan! Tell!"

Rowan looks down. "Well, the first time was when we visited his parents for Christmas."

"I knew it!" I gasp.

"But it wasn't a big deal," she says. "There were no candles or rose petals. We were just… curious."

Tulips smirks at me. "Talbott doesn't look like the kind of guy that will do it out of curiosity."

"All right, all right," I say. "Off of my bed, you two. It's too late to have this kind of conversation."

Rowan gets off my bed but kneels on the floor and rests her elbows on the mattress, looking at me with amusement. "Did you know that there's a birth-control potion called Persephone's Pome? I can give you the recipe if you want."

My cheeks burn as I lay down, covering my body with the heavy blue eiderdown. Rowan flashes me one last smirk before blowing the candle on her nightstand and going to her bed. In the darkness, my mind can't seem to shut up.

 _Oh, God. Having a boyfriend will be harder than I thought._

* * *

I am grappling my schedule while walking to the first Choir meeting of the school year. Just the thought that, in an hour, I'll be sitting in a classroom being taught by Rakepick is enough to bring an awful feeling to my stomach. The only thing able to appease my soul is the fact that, when I arrived at the common room that morning, Tal was already waiting for me. He walked me to the Great Hall for breakfast and kissed me softly before going to his History of Magic lesson.

I get to the Choir Room half wonderstruck and half annoyed, but instead of Professor Flitwick, the first person I see is Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Lockhart," she says, her tone severe as always. "Given that Professor Dumbledore isn't here, I'll be the one to provide you the details of your detention."

 _Dammit._

"You are going to work in the kitchens every morning to help the elves prepare breakfast," she tells me, as if this is the most normal thing in the world, and completely ignores my widened eyes. "You will be under the supervision of Pitts. He's the head of the kitchen's elves."

"But Professor-"

"No but," she says. "Professor Dumbledore's orders were clear. Every morning, Miss Lockhart, at seven o'clock."

"But… this is for the whole school year?" I question.

"No. Just until Professor Dumbledore is certain that you've learned your lesson. Now, have a good day."

She walks away, leaving me there, completely dismayed. I rest my back against the wall, letting out a long sigh. Professor Dumbledore's probably trying to make me get as tired as I can possibly be, just so I won't have any energy to pursue the Cursed Vaults. I enter the Choir Room, feeling deeply annoyed, and manage to only nod to everything that Professor Flitwick says. One hour later, when our meeting and practice finally ends, I'm so vexed that if Rakepick teaches us an Unforgivable Curse, I'll definitely test it on her.

I turn a few corridors to get to Rakepick's classroom. Unlike my Aunt's whimsical decoration and Professor Avalon's fay-like ambience, Rakepick decorated her classroom in a more practical and clean way. However, three things stand out in the perfectly organized room: a sarcophagus, rested against the wall, right behind the chalkboard; a human skull, places atop a perfect pile of books on her table; and Sickleworth, that is poking the skull with his tiny hands.

Rowan is already there, with a place reserved for me by her side. I sit next to her, still feeling extremely annoyed.

"You never sit on the back," I say. "What happened?"

"It was here or sitting in front of Merula and Ismelda," she tells me. "And no way I was going to sit in front of those creeps."

The rest of the students start to arrive, finding their places, and when I spot Barnaby arriving with Liz, finding a place in the desk next to our, the only thing I can do is smile. He smiles at me too, looking a lot more friendly than in June, when we had out fight during the Quidditch game.

"What a marvellous keychain!" Liz says, indicating the little pink Puffskein hanging from my bag. "Where did you get it?"

"Oh, Penny's sister made it for me," I say.

Liz smiles. "You've met Beatrice? She's truly a doll. She already has a huge crush on Barney."

Barnaby brushes. "She does not!"

"Of course not," Liz says, and winks secretively at me and Rowan.

I grab my new Dark Arts book; whose requisition now makes complete sense considering that it was Rakepick who asked for it. _Tactic Defence: Preparing for War._ I run my fingers on the burgundy hardcover and think of Tal. The sound of his voice echoes is my head, reading poems that are just for me, and I decide that I shall not let Rakepick ruin my year.

"Good morning, students," Rakepick says, entering the classroom with a floating box next to her that is nearly her size. She places the box in the front of the classroom and puts a hand on her waist. "I'm your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. You can call me either Professor Rakepick or Madam Rakepick."

Her eyes fall directly upon me, as a smirk arises on her red lips. "Today we'll study and learn how to defend ourselves against ghouls. Much like your previous Dark Arts professors, they're relatively harmless and dim-witted. Therefore, they're a good subject to gauge what you have learned or, more likely, have not learned, thus far."

She lifts her wand, making a piece of chalk move from its box to the board, writing the word "ghoul" in capital letters. Underneath it, the chalk makes an exact representation of the drawing printed in our books.

"Now, who can tell me what type of ghoul is capable of disguising itself?" she asks, staring at us.

Liz raises her hand and Rakepick nods at her. "The Chameleon Ghoul."

"Very well. Five points for Slytherin," Rakepick says. "Let's begin with a brief lecture on their dispositions and habitats."

Her lesson goes on for nearly forty minutes, of which I try to ignore her irritating presence and focus on the lecture itself. I take careful notes – making use of Rowan's new colourful ink kit -, until Rakepick finally ends her lecture and stops in front of the classroom to face us.

"Now let's learn how to handle an aggressive ghoul," she says, tapping the box next to her.

The wood cringes and a deep, guttural howl escapes from is interior. The box begins to vanish, exposing what was hiding inside of it. The creature looks like a smaller human, but its skin is greenish, we can count its ribs and its head is more rounded and completely hairless. The ghoul looks at us with a threatening grin, its eyes glowing in a bright green-yellow light.

"When distressed, ghouls will try to throw objects to defend itself," Rakepick says, hitting her wand on the creature's head.

The ghoul releases a loud growl, grabbing the nearest thing it can reach: the skull over Rakepick's books. Its movements are fast and angry, and he throws the skull, with impressive strength, directly at Liz's face.

" _Molliare!_ " I shout, instinctively.

The skull hits her with the softness of a fluffy pillow, falling on her table and staring at me with hollow eyes. Liz flashes me a pair of hazel eyes that expresses half gratitude and half apprehension. From the front of the classroom, Rakepick starts to clap.

"Well done, Miss Lockhart," she says. "Outstanding agility. Perhaps you'd like to join me here and show us how to prevent a ghoul from throwing objects at you."

I let out a long sigh, getting up and heading to the front of the class. Rakepick's blueish eyes and ginger hair seem to sparkle under the candle lights, as she looks at me with fierceness. I stare at the poor creature standing in front of me, looking angry and scared at the same time. I aim my wand at it, trying to think of the most harmless spell in my repertoire.

" _Immobulus!_ " I cast, and the creature immediately stops moving, looking stuck in the position it last was, but not as hard as if I had used _Petrificus Totalus._

"Impressive," Rakepick says, and I roll my eyes without her seeing. "Ten points for Ravenclaw."

I return to my seat, making a small note on the side of the ghoul's illustration, that the Freezing Charm is a great one to be used. Rowan, on the other hand, makes a not to never hit a ghoul with a wand, putting emphasis on the "never".

"Very well, class," Rakepick says. "Despite your substandard instruction to this point, you've managed to learn quite a bit about the Dark Arts in today's lesson. Can anyone tell me how we should rid ourselves of this ghoul?"

Rowan raises her hand. "We should notify the Ghoul Task Force."

"I avoid interacting with the Ministry of Magic and its multitude of extraneous departments as much as possible," Rakepick replies. "Besides, I am here to teach you how to defend yourselves, not to have others do it for you."

Rowan looks at me, annoyed. "Clearly."

"The best spell to be used in this circumstance is the Full-Body-Bind Spell," she says. "You've witnessed Miss Lockhart use the Freezing Charm, but, in my opinion, it's a rather merciful spell."

She points her wand at the ghoul. " _Petrificus Totalus_."

The ghoul's arms attach themselves to his body and he falls heavily on the floor, making a loud crashing sound. Rakepick looks at us with a satisfied smirk and releases a proud snicker.

"I'll have Mr. Filch cart this ghoul off in a wheelbarrow," she says. "Class dismissed. Rest assured that things will get increasingly treacherous from here."

Rowan looks at me again. " _Clearly._ "

* * *

* This Isn't the End, by Owl City.


	89. Year 5: Chapter 5 - The Strangest of Tea

**A/N:** Hello, beautiful people! How are you today? I'm so glad that you guys enjoyed last week's chapter. I wanna send a special shout out to **TimeIsAStrategicWaltz** , **LovelyClaire** , **iNiGmA** and **Son of Whitebeard** for the sweet reviews. I hope you enjoy today's chapter as well! As you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Five - The Strangest of Teams**

 _Just because everything's changing_

 _Doesn't mean it's never been this way before_

 _All you can do is try to know who your friends are_

 _As you head off to the war*_

* * *

The atmosphere outside of Rakepick's classroom is endlessly lighter. Though there's a thin rain pouring outside, the hallways are warm and there are some sunbeams flooding the floors, trespassing the curtain of clouds.

I spend the whole walk toward the Charms classroom feeling sorry for that ghoul. Rowan, on the other hand, isn't sorry at all.

"That woman is just… _ugh!_ " she says. " _I avoid interacting with the Ministry_ … blah blah blah."

"Overwhelmed?" I ask her.

"Deeply."

When we reach the classroom door, I am stopped by someone unannouncedly holding my hand. Honestly, I'd love a kiss from Talbott to make me feel less bad, but as I turn around, my heart skips a beat when I meet Ben's crestfallen face.

"Can I talk to you?" he asks, his brownish eyes exhaling hope. "Maybe tonight? Before dinner?"

I look at Rowan, who simply responds with a shrug and enters the classroom. My eyes return to Ben, who waits for my answer, his lips slightly trembling with expectation.

"Please," he says, staring at me, extremely forlorn.

I sigh. "Okay. I'll meet you at the Courtyard. Around seven?"

"I'll be there," he says. "And thank you… Athena."

Though I manage to absorb Professor Flitwick's lecture about the Silencing Charm, it's hard to give him my full attention when I keep flashing glances at Ben, who's sitting on the other side of the classroom, looking completely lonely. He takes notes and checks on the book like the good student that he is, but something about his eyes makes my heart shatter a little.

Not even lunch, in which I eat half my weight in lasagne to bury my worries, is enough to appease my screaming thoughts. Talbott tries to make me feel better, telling me he'll help me study for my O.W.L.s – making Rowan and Tulip smirk mischievously at us – and that on the 17th we'll be able to go to Hogsmeade and have ice cream together, but I continue to feel extremely uneasy. He walks me to the dungeons, kisses my hand and flashes me a wonderful smile before leaving the castle for his Herbology class.

I climb down the stairs that lead to the classroom, only to walk past Merula, who's talking to Rakepick next to the door. Merula flashes me a cocky smile, but I ignore her and enter the room, finding a place next to Rowan. I promptly open my book, feeling slightly better for being in a class that I actually like.

From the door, I can hear Professor Snape's annoyed voice. "Go back to your den, Rakepick. You are not paid to lure students to your reckless plans. Miss Snyde, straight to class."

Merula enters the room, still looking extremely confident, and finds a place next to Ismelda in the back of the class. Professor Snape enters and I feel my heart rejoicing, because I hadn't truly realized how much I had missed our lessons. His black robes float around every step as he walks to the chalkboard, writing the instructions about the Draught of Peace. He looks so pestered by Rakepick's annoying presence in this castle that he seems to have forgotten that he can make the chalk write by itself.

"You will have to perform greatly in this class if you plan to pursue a demanding career," he says, firmly. "Two more years and you will be leaving this castle to face the world, so I will not let you disgrace what I have taught you thus far. Today you will learn about the Draught of Peace, which is doomed to be in your O.W.L.s examinations."

He turns around to look at us, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Rowan stares at him with her quill prepared, ready to take as many notes as possible.

"Who can tell me the main ingredient of this potion?" he asks.

I raise my hand, and his obsidian eyes fall heavily upon me. "Hellebore syrup, Professor."

"Correct," he says. "And what are the properties of this ingredient, Miss Lockhart?"

"It is extracted from the hellebore flower, which is known to have calming properties. It is also used to treat anxiety and insanity."

"Professor, is it true that the Salem witches used this syrup to summon demons?" Ismelda asks, a scary smile on her lips.

"No, that is absurd," he says. "And you should not speak when unrequired, Miss Murk. Five points for Ravenclaw for the correct answer."

My lips curl in a smile as the feeling of belonging finally come back to me. Amidst those strange ingredients, fumes and bubbles, I feel at home. When we finally get to prepare the actual potion, I'm feeling way more relaxed, and the thoughts of the imminent detention and having Rakepick around all the time completely vanish from my head. All that's left is the mechanical process of chopping, sifting and crushing, that mesmerizes me with the same intensity as Talbott's eyes.

When the lesson is over and I place my flask on Professor Snape's table, he doesn't need to talk for me to know that he wants to speak with me. I look back at Rowan, who's putting her materials back on her bag.

"We'll wait for you in the library," she tells me. "It's only the first day and Bill is already freaking out about the N.E.W.T.s."

I nod, waiting in front of his desk for everyone to leave the classroom. When Merula finally leaves, followed by Ismelda, and the door is closed, is that Professor Snape speaks.

"Sit, Miss Lockhart," he says, lifting his wand to call for a chair, that lands right in front of his table. "This is a conversation that you should be having with your head of house. However, Professor Flitwick did notice your aptitude with Potions and asked for me to have this conversation with you."

I sit down, entwining my fingers over my knees. I'm wondering if he'll discuss my detention sentence or my reckless future plans with the Cursed Vaults, but instead, he looks at me with serenity.

"Given that this is your O.W.L.s year, I would like to discuss your career options," he says, simply.

I blink a few times. "My… career options?"

"Do not tell me that you have never thought about your future," he says, sharply.

"Well… I have," I say. "I've been thinking about… well…"

"Let me guess," he says. "After all your curse-breaking adventures, you felt like the Auror career would be the most suitable for you, isn't it?"

"Well… no," I say. "I've been thinking about becoming an… Alchemist."

The corners of his lips curl in a subtle smile. For the briefest moment, it's almost like he's pleased with my answer. Not that becoming an Auror isn't something interesting, but in my eyes, the bewitching arts of potions and alchemy are what I completely thrive.

"This is the most ambitious career, Miss Lockhart," he says. "Also, the hardest to achieve."

I look down, letting out a sigh. "I know," and my eyes return to him. "But a challenge has never stopped me from doing anything."

His eyes are undecipherable, but the twitching of his lips tells me that what I just said is something that he either considered entertaining or really, really stupid. He looks intensively at me, crossing his arms over the table.

"You will need an Outstanding both in Potions and Transfiguration," he says. "Though I think it will not be a problem for you, given your impeccable record."

I smile, unable to contain myself after such compliment.

"May I see your schedule?" he asks, and I rush to grab the sheet of paper from my bag, handing it to him. "Another busy year, I see. You will need Exceeds Expectations in all the other classes you are taking. In your seventh year, you will also need to take Alchemy, Ancient Studies, and Advance Studies in Arithmancy, Transfiguration and Potions. And all this, added to your inability to follow the rules and your job as a double agent for me, will probably make you the busiest student of this castle."

I blink twice. "Double agent?"

"I know that Rakepick has recruited Miss Snyde," he says, the tone of his voice becoming darker. "But what she does not know, is that I know that she will recruit you. You would be an outstanding acquisition for her team. She wants you to help her find the next Cursed Vault. However, what she does not know, is that you will, instead, be working for me."

"Professor, I-"

"I know it will be hard considering your detention times, studies and duties as Quidditch Captain, but you must promise me, Miss Lockhart, that you will do your best to uncover Rakepick's plans. She is not here to look after this castle or its students. Her plans are likely way darker and greedier than she lets show."

"I… I…" I stutter, still processing what he said.

"Everything that she says… everything that she does… you will bring straight to me. Understood? This is a challenge, Miss Lockhart. You will have to gain her trust, while still being yourself. Doubt her. Confront her. But still make her believe she has you under her claws. She doesn't want you because you are obedient. She wants you because you are defiant. And, above all, because you are a threat."

I swallow hard, not fully processing the task in front of me. "Yes, sir."

"Promise me, Miss Lockhart, that you will help me reveal what Rakepick really is," he says.

I look down, thinking of how Dumbledore requested Rakepick's services and how she failed to end the curses. I think of how she let Julian die and how she didn't care when Nora died too. I think of how stupid Dumbledore is for wanting to keep her around, even though she has proved more than once that she's not suited for this job. And I think, above all, of all the secrets and mysteries that she's been carrying, while pretending to care about this castle. My eyes return to Professor Snape, this time full of purpose. "I promise."

"And remember, do not tell this to anyone. I repeat, no one can know," he says. "The more people are aware of this, the more chances that it will get to Rakepick and the less chances we will have to expose her."

I nod. "My lips are sealed."

He leans back on his chair, eying me with abetment. "As a reward, I will assist you to become the best Alchemist possible."

Another smile runs through my lips. "Better than Nicholas Flamel?"

He lets out a short chortle, looking at me, genuinely intrigued. "I will never understand how you were not placed in Slytherin."

I relax on my seat. "It isn't as if the Sorting Hat hadn't considered it."

We remain in silence for a few minutes, as I stare at my hands – at my fresh dark-blue manicure – and think about how troubled this year is going to be. This was one of my main concerns regarding Barnaby; that I wouldn't have enough time to dedicate to him. However, now I have Tal and I'll have to bend over backwards to make everything work. My eyes return to Professor Snape.

"Won't we be having private lessons this year?" I ask.

"Not for now," he says. "Rakepick will demand plenty of you time. When we finally unmask her, we can return to our regular lessons."

I nod. "Won't it be dangerous? Lying to her?"

He indicates the bracelet around my wrist. "Do not worry. I will be watching over you."

After his reassuring words, I finally leave the dungeons. There's a weight upon my heart and I can't help but look over my shoulders to make sure Rakepick is not around. For some reason, her presence in this castle makes everything a lot darker. The fact that she's a threat is undeniable. But the real question is: how far is she willing to go to prevent me from finding the Vaults?

I take a lonely walk to the library, enjoying how the sky slowly turns from blue to pink and orange as I walk by the long corridors. Every beat of wings from the owls and pigeons on the outside make me think of Tal and of how it will be hard to keep my agreement with Professor Snape from him. Will he be upset when he finds out I'm keeping secrets from him? Another day and another myriad of unanswered questions.

Though this is just the first day, the library is already jampacked with students. I see some of my classmates – who are already preoccupied with their O.W.L.s – getting piles and piles of books, and also some first years who are already desperate for knowledge. Next to a window, away from all the fuzz, are Rowan, Charlie, Bill and Percy.

"Hey there, Weasleys," I say. "And Rowan."

"Rowan is a Weasley too," Charlie says, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"HEY!" Madam Pince shouts, walking by us carrying an old dusty book. "NO SNOGGING IN MY LIBRARY!"

"Sorry!" Charlie says, blushing.

I sit across from Percy, who flashes me a bashful smile. He has about ten books stacked in front of him and is finishing writing a 6 feet long essay about Wendelin, the Weird, and the effects of magic on fire.

"Doesn't Professor Flitwick usually book this essay for, like, the end of the month?" I ask him, making him blush furiously.

"Well… it's never too soon to start," he says, his voice slightly trembling.

"Percy is a huge nerd," Bill mocks, opening an advanced Dark Arts book.

"You speak as if you weren't," Charlie says. "Twelve O.W.L.s when you only needed six… Straight O student… I don't even know why you're worrying about your N.E.W.T.s right now."

" _It's never too soon to start!_ " he hisses, exasperated, running his fingers nervously along his long ginger hair.

"That makes your kinship very obvious," I say, grabbing my own Dark Arts book and starting to read about ghouls.

As I get to the part where ghouls are mentioned in the Brazilian folklore as the "Liver-Eaters", because they violate graveyards to feed on the corpses' livers, a pair of heavy heels walking across the library makes me lift my head. My stomach pirouettes uncomfortably when I meet the grim figure of Rakepick. Her red hair shakes graciously over her shoulders, covered by the charcoal cloak she always uses, pinned to her dark red robes by an Eye of Horus brooch. What increases even more my discomfort, is when I realize that she's walking straight to us.

"Mr. Weasley," she says, austere, stopping right next to our table, placing her hands firmly on her waist.

"Yes?" Bill, Charlie and Percy say in unison. Rowan and I giggle softly.

"William Weasley," she corrects. "Follow me. You too, Miss Lockhart."

"Why?" I ask, feeling the adrenaline being poured into my veins.

"We have important matters to discuss."

I look at Rowan, who simply shrugs and flashes me an understand smile. I roll my eyes, annoyed, and put my book back in my bag, following Rakepick and Bill out of the library. Professor Snape's words blare on my mind. _You will have to gain her trust while still being yourself…_ I close my hands into fists inside my pockets, walking closely behind her through corridors and hallways, until we leave the castle and my feet meet the soft green grass. We walk a little more until, standing in the middle of the Training Grounds, I see a familiar figure.

 _Merula._

Rakepick takes us to her and they both flash us arrogant smiles. I reach for my wand in my pocket, holding it in place in case they decide to play some tricks. However, Rakepick only smirks devilishly, a hand placed, as usual, on her thin waist.

"You are probably wondering you I invoked you here," she says to me and Bill. "I had the chance to discuss it with Miss Snyde, but not yet with you two. Of all the students at Hogwarts, I have chosen you three to serve as my apprentice Curse-Breakers."

I clench my jaw. "Why?"

She smirks. "Mr. Weasley for his bravery and determination. Miss Snyde for her ambition and strength. And you, Miss Lockhart, for your courage, natural talent, and obvious connection with the Cursed Vaults. I look forward to showing each of you how to leave a lasting impact on the wizarding world."

"What if we refuse you offer?" I ask.

"I won't," Merula rushes to say.

Rakepick lets out an amused giggle. "You are welcome to try and search for the Vaults alone but be warned that you'll most certainly die. Let me share my experiences defeating Dark Wizards, decimating deadly beasts, and breaking ancient curses. I will show you places you never knew existed and open your eyes to things you never thought possible. I'll teach you spells capable of capturing or obliterating anything foolish enough to stand in your path."

My grip tightens around my wand, and the will to hex her is immense. Bill, on the other side, flashes me an excited look, his eyes glistening under the sunset.

"I can grant you fame. I can grant you glory," she continues. "Imagine, Miss Snyde and Miss Lockhart, being famous curse-breakers without having finished your magical education. As for Mr. Weasley, I have already sent a letter of recommendation to my superior in Gringotts. He's very interested in hiring you when you finish your studies."

Bill's jaw drops, his eyes returning to me in complete ecstasy. My jaw clenches as I face the reality that yes, Rakepick is extremely manipulative. She'll tell us anything and give us anything to keep us in her game. I don't know what she promised Merula, but her words will always be empty for me. Nevertheless, I have to pretend that I'm mesmerized by her promises. I have to make her believe that I trust her, so she can trust me too.

"You're going to be an outstanding curse-breaker, Bill," I say, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Indeed," Rakepick says.

"The only issue here is how am I supposed to work with Merula when she clearly despises me?"

"We've had this conversation, Lockhart," Merula says, coldly. "For fame and glory, I'll do anything. Even endure your displeasing presence."

"Remember," Rakepick says. "You are a team now. A family. No matter what happens, you must protect one another. Understood?"

"Perfectly," I say, staring fiercely at Merula.

Merula smirks. "Don't be so nasty, Lockhart. We're family now."

I roll my eyes.

 _Yeah, right._

* * *

The sun has already set when I reach the Courtyard to meet Ben. The nightfall pours upon the fountain, the ivy that's wrapped around the pillars and the tall clock standing behind me. My steps are silent over the mossy stone ground, so it takes a while for Ben – who's absentmindedly staring at the water in the font – to turn around and look at me.

"Athena," he says, and his face, though now older, is the same as the day I met him. Slightly scared, but full of dreams and hopes. "I'm surprised you even came."

"I wanted to make sure you're okay," I say, walking to him. "I have hardly seen you since… you know."

"I should be the one checking on you," he says, looking down, his eyes full of sadness. "I've just been so ashamed… and afraid. Not that that's news. Everyone knows I'm a coward."

"Don't be so harsh on yourself," I say, reaching out and resting my hand on his arm.

His eyes fall upon me, so full of pain. "I'm afraid that someone might take control of me again. That they might make me do something even worse. I don't want to hurt you, Athena. That's why I've been so distant. I want to protect you."

I look into his eyes – hazel, with some sparse amber specks – and I can feel the genuine affection that he feels for me. Despite everything we've been through, all our trials and tribulations, I still see him as the boy that I saved from Merula, that I helped overcome the fear of flying and that buried me in despair when disappeared. In his eyes, I still see my best friend.

"What happened that night, Ben?" I ask, my mind twisting with curiosity.

He looks away, at the clock behind me, and his eyes glisten under the stars. "I just remember standing outside our common room and Rakepick was making me a bunch of questions. I wish I remembered more, but I still don't, even after all this time," his eyes return to me. "Professor Dumbledore tried everything. This is hopeless… I'm hopeless."

"You're not hopeless, Ben."

He reaches out for my hand, holding it gently between his. The charms on my wrist twinkle when my sleeve moves away, and a soft smile arises on his full lips.

"You're still wearing it," he says, looking at me. "The charm. You'll always be my best friend, Athena, but I'm not deserving of your friendship."

"Don't say that," I beg, holding ours hands together. "You've been with me to the Vaults. You helped me the best way you could."

"That's the problem. Don't you see?" he says, his voice full of despair. "The best way I can is not enough. You've always stepped up for me. Now it's time for me to do the same for you."

"Ben, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I want to, Athena. I want to protect you. I want to be there for you. I want to be a good friend for you."

"You already are a good friend," I say. "In your own unique way."

"You can say that as much as you want," he says. "It doesn't change the facts. I want to be braver. I want to show the world that I'm not going to let my friends fight for me. I wanna be there to fight with them. With you."

"You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

"I know," he says. "But I want to. And above all, I want to prove myself. I thought about it over the summer. I've been watching my parents, both firefighters, so courageous and righteous, risking their lives to save others. I want to be just like them. I want to make justice to our family name. The Coppers are not weak or fearful. This line doesn't end with me."

I look into his eyes, so fierce and full of purpose, and I can't help but smile, so joyfully, while watching him give this first step towards the person he wants to be. Truth be told, having this fearless Ben by my side during this journey for the next Vault would more than useful. Besides, having my best friend beside my again would bring me the joy I much needed to continue with this task and this long year ahead of me.

"I want you to know, Ben," I say, holding his hands tighter. "That I'm here for you. No matter what. Let's not let R or whoever this threat is break us apart again."

"And I won't step away anymore. If anything's wrong, I'll let you know. I won't hide anything from you."

"It's okay, Ben. It's okay to keep some secrets to yourself."

"No, I want you to know," he says, his cheeks blushing. "I want to tell you something that I've been feeling. I think that I'm-"

Before Ben can finish his sentence, a flash of bright blue light flashes in front of me, hitting him right on his chest. He's pushed back with such strength that he crashes against the fountain and falls on the floor, unconscious. I turn around abruptly, to the source of the light, only to find him standing by the Courtyard's entrance, his face buried in shadows.

"I told you death was coming to Hogwarts, Athena Lockhart," the Dark Wizard says, his red cloak shaking in the night wind.

"Who are you?" I inquire, aiming my wand at him. "What do you want?"

"We want you," he says, his voice is like a hiss in the air. "We still need you alive, but before this year ends, one of your friends will die."

"No!" I say, my heart pounding. "I won't let you hurt my friends ever again!"

"It is not a matter of letting, Athena Lockhart," he says, coldly. "You will never be able to stop us."

"Yeah? Try me!" I say, tightening the grip around my wand. " _Everte Statum!_ "

My spell hits his shield, making my heart heavy with fear and anger.

" _Immobulus! Petrificus Totalus!_ " I shout, the spells continuing to hit what seems to be a very strong shield that emanates every time he moves his wand. " _Depleo!_ "

"It is useless, Athena Lockhart," he says. "You will never be stronger than us."

Before I'm able to lift my wand again, he vanishes in the air, disappearing like smoke being sucked into a black hole. I'm left there, blinking and confused, with my thoughts swirling and my heart beating heavily. The sound of running steps awake me from my numbness and I see Professor Snape rushing to the Courtyard, his eyes full of concern. He sees me standing there and then his eyes meet the fallen figure of Ben.

"What happened?" he asks. "Were you in danger?"

I swallow hard. "He's back. The Dark Wizard is back."

"Where is he?" he asks, looking around, his wand in hand.

"Gone," I say. "Apparated."

"One cannot Apparate within the castle's grounds," he tells me. "There are enchantments prohibiting it. Which means… " his jet-black eyes meet mine, sparkling with anticipation under the night sky. "He was probably using a Portkey."

* * *

* The Call, Regina Spektor


	90. Year 5: Chapter 6 - Where Hope is Lost

**A/N:** Hello, everyone! After two long weeks of not updating this story, I'm here to post another chapter. I've been terribly busy between writing my thesis and some field trips, and - unfortunatelly - I'm not having much time to write. I have three chapters already written, but I need to write some more. Otherwise, in three weeks I'll be out of chapters and will have to take some hiatus time. Let's hope it doesn't happen! Anyway, here's chapter six. I hope you all enjoy it and please leave a review, so I can know your opinion. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Six - Where Hope is Lost**

 _Paint a picture of the perfect place_

 _They've got it better than what anyone's told you_

 _They'll be the King of Hearts and you're the Queen of Spades_

 _And we'll fight for you like we were your soldiers*_

* * *

In a perfect world, we would have taken Ben directly to Madam Pomfrey. In a perfect world, Professor Dumbledore would be around to investigate the happenings. In a perfect world, I'd be strong and impassive at the sight of my unconscious best friend. However, we do not live in a perfect world. Instead of the flawless alterative universe that I'd love to belong in, I am knelt next to the black _chaise longue_ in Professor Snape's office, where Ben is rested upon, while a _Sthenovita_ potion boils in a cauldron.

"Just a few more minutes and it will be done," Professor Snape says, throwing some lionfish scales inside the mixture. "Mr. Copper will be fully restored after drinking this."

I sigh, my heart now calmer after drinking the Draught of Peace that I had prepared myself that afternoon. If it wasn't for Professor Snape, I'd still be standing in the Courtyard, hyperventilating, desperate because Ben just wouldn't wake up. He placed Ben on a stretcher and used a Disillusionment Charm to make him merge with our surroundings, so no one would see us taking him directly to the dungeons.

"Do you understand why I did this?" he asks, placing some potion inside a glass.

"To avoid a pandemonium?" I suggest, caressing Ben's hair.

"Besides that."

"You think Rakepick is behind these attacks," I say.

"Exactly," he says, staring at me with intense onyx eyes. "Didn't you think her timing was a little too perfect when she rescued you from this same cloaked wizard back in April?"

I look at him, flabbergasted, and blink a few times while absorbing what he's suggesting. It is nothing new that I have considered that Rakepick could be R, but is she really trying to kill me? And if she really is this crazy psychopath, why did Dumbledore even hire her?

Professor Snape holds Ben's cheeks, slightly opening his jaw, and pours some of the potion inside his mouth. It takes a few seconds for Ben to finally open his eyes, a little blurred at first, but when his irises finally meet my face, they exhale pure bewilderment.

"What happened?" he asks, his eyes wide. "Where am I?"

"In Professor Snape's office," I tell him, and he immediately sits, his neck almost breaking from looking to the sides, knowing his surroundings. When his eyes meet Professor Snape's, the shiver of terror that runs through Ben's body is so intense that it's almost visible.

"Don't worry," I say. "We can trust him."

"Athena… who was that person who attacked us?" he asks.

I shake my head. "I don't know. Could be anyone."

"Do… do you think it is another student? Maybe one… of us?"

"I don't know, Ben," I say. "But I think it's safe to assume that none of our friends are safe now."

I watch him swallow hard and look at me, resting his hand upon mine, trying his best to portray a little confidence. "I won't be afraid anymore. When the time comes, I'll fight."

I smile sadly. Though it's wonderful to watch him grow up and try to become the person he wants to be, I also wish, deep inside, that the time to fight never comes. The Dark Wizard's voice lingers in my mind like a curse.

 _Before this year ends, one of your friends will die._

No.

I shall never allow it.

I'll gladly give my own life to protect them.

Even if it means… never finding my brother.

* * *

Dinner is almost over when we finally reach the Great Hall. No one seems to notice that Ben arrives at the Gryffindor table at the same time I arrive at Ravenclaw's, and at the same time Professor Snape gets to the teachers' table. Well, no one beside our friends.

"Athie, where the hell were you?" Rowan asks, as Tal holds my hand softly and places a kiss on it, making my body shiver.

"Let's not talk about it in here," I say.

We wait until we're back at our common room; after everyone went to bed. Our conversation is lulled by the crepitating sound of the wood in the fireplace as I lounge in Tal's arms in the sofa while Rowan sits in one of the armchairs and Tulip sits on the rug, her legs crossed. When I tell them that Ben and I were attacked, it would be a euphemism if I said their eyes almost fell off their orbits.

"Well, it couldn't have been any of us," Tulip says. "I was with Tonks… Rowan was in the library and Talbott was in class."

"Or… could it?" Rowan says, distressed. "I mean, how much are we actually aware of our surroundings? How much can R be affecting us? Maybe we're attacking Athie and we don't even remember."

"We haven't talked to the rest of the guys yet," Tulip says. "What if it was Charlie? Or Bill?"

"They were at the library with me," Rowan says. "So was Percy."

"What about Penny? And Barnaby?" Tulips adds.

I sigh. "I don't even like to think about it. The thought of someone else being controlled like Ben was… is just too disturbing."

"We need to find a way to make sure we all know where the other is at all times," Tal says, after being silent the whole time. "Or be sure to never walk around alone."

"It frightens me to think that I might attack you, Athie," Rowan says, hugging her knees. "I'd never forgive myself."

I lift my eyes to look at her; her cinnamon skin seems to glow under the flames light, her brown eyes look always black behind her glasses and her jaw is so clenched that her lips are even thinner. She lifts a hand to pull away her side fringe that's falling over her eye and lets out a long sigh. Looking at her, so worried and so pensive, I can't picture a scenario where I wouldn't forgive her. She could go full _Crucio_ on me at this instant, and I'd know it wouldn't be her. She's my best friend, just like Ben is. No matter what happens, I'll forgive them. Just like I will forgive Tonks, Tulip, Penny, Barnaby, Bill, Charlie… and Talbott.

"How's Ben?" Rowan asks after a moment of silence. "I feel awful for doubting him so much."

"We all doubted him," Tulip says. "What kind of friends are we?"

I smile sadly as Tal runs his fingers through my hair. "We're still learning to be friends. We'll make a lot of mistakes along the way."

"I think we should make something nice for Ben," Rowan says. "To show him we care."

I sigh, getting up. "But let's think about it tomorrow. I need to sleep. I have to be up before seven for my detention."

"But tomorrow is Saturday!" Tulip gasps.

"Yeah," I say, vexed. "But Dumbledore doesn't care."

Talbott walks me downstairs to my dorm door, whereas Rowan and Tulip remain in the common room a little longer. Every inch of my body is exhausted, just as my mind. I don't know what to expect from R or Rakepick or even Dumbledore anymore, and it tires me deeply. However, Talbott manages to bring adrenaline to my system when he wraps his arms tightly around me, sweeping me off my feet, and presses me against the wall.

"I've been waiting for this all day," he murmurs between my lips. " _Half the night I waste in sighs… half in dreams I sorrow after… the delight of early skies… in a wakeful dose I sorrow… for the hand… the lips… the eyes…_ "

"You're unbelievable," I say, kissing him ardently as rest my hands on his neck, pulling him even closer.

"I thought missing you would feel good," he says. "But it doesn't. It's an everlasting ache."

"So, this is going to be a deeply painful year for you," I whisper.

"Yes, it will. Goodnight, _ma chérie._ Dream some dreams about me."

I smile as he lets me go, placing one last sweet and wonderful kiss upon my lips. He winks as he enters his dorm, disappearing behind the closed door. I rest my back against the wall and let out a sight. Somehow, amidst this reign of terror, Talbott finds a way to turn everything into poetry.

 _Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?_

* * *

The sky is still dark when I wake up, Talbott's kiss still fresh on my lips. The dorm scenery is still a blur in my tired eyes and every step is a struggle. The last thing I'd like to do in a Saturday dawn is to stroll lonelily to the castle's kitchens, and I'm pretty sure that's exactly what Dumbledore had in mind when assigning me this detention. He'd want me as tired as possible to prevent me from recklessly searching for the Vaults and for my brother. I guess that in his questionable genius mind, Rakepick will manage to successfully finish this task without his intervention.

Well, then he can kiss my Ravenclaw arse if he thinks I'll allow a little exhaustion to stop me.

I wash the night from my face, put my hair in a bun and put on some comfortable clothes. The dawn air is cold, making me walk from our tower to the kitchens with my hands inside my pockets. It would look like a careless scene if anyone saw it, but what they wouldn't know is that my hand was clasped around my wand the entire time. You know. Just in case.

It takes me nearly twenty minutes to get there; seven staircases, plenty of long and dark corridors and some very startling sounds that nearly steal the air from my lungs. When I finally find the way that leads to the kitchens is that I realize that I'm no idea where it is located. In the end of the long corridor where I'm standing, I see the barrels that are the entrance to Hufflepuff's common room. However, there's nothing else except some plants and a huge painting of a fruit bowl.

The sound of steps coming from where I just came from makes me tighten the grip around my wand. I hold my breath as the sound gets clearer and louder, until I can see a shadow forming on the walls and moving to the floor.

"Oh, hi," a boy says, running his fingers through his black messy hair. "I didn't know I'd have company in detention today."

He lets out an amused snicker as I stand there, baffled.

"My name's Jae," he says, offering his hand. "Jae Kim."

"Oh," I say, shaking his hand. "Athena Lockhart."

"Yeah, I know who you are," he says, opening a smile. "The famous curse-breaker. What did you do to deserve such punishment?"

I shrug. "Apparently curse-breaking isn't a proper extra-curricular activity. Why are you here?"

He laughs again. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

I frown. "Was it _that_ serious?"

"Nah, I was just caught bringing banned items to school," he tells me with a big smile.

"Doesn't seem such a serious crime."

He shrugs. "Contraband isn't a proper extra-curricular activity."

I giggle, allowing my shoulders to relax a bit. "So, where is the kitchen's entrance?"

"Well," he says, indicating the fruit bowl painting next to us. "Right here."

I frown, making him release another diverted snicker. He reaches out for the painting, gently touching his fingers on the giant pear. His fingers move quickly, almost as if they're tickling the fruit. He looks at me, bearing so much joy that I can't help but smile.

"So, you just tickle the pear," I say.

"Mental, isn't it?" he says as the painting slowly moves horizontally, revealing a large passage for us to walk through. "Ladies first."

I enter the room hesitantly, my eyes widening as I step foot into the largest kitchen I've even seen. There are long shelves, all fully stocked with jars and baskets of ingredients, fruits and vegetables, there's a huge wood stove right next to an even larger fireplace, that enlightens the place and makes it all warm and cosy. There are four long tables, with nothing on top, and several – and I mean several – house elves running in between them, washing dishes, cooking, melting chocolate and decorating cakes.

"This place is incredible," I tell Jae, and he simply giggles.

"Yeah, it is," he says. "But don't be too mesmerized. Too much time in here will make you detest the houses' tables."

"The houses' tables?" I question.

"These are the four houses tables where we have all our meals," he says, as if it was obvious. "Well, copies of them. The elves put all the food on top of it and a spell transports it to the Great Hall."

"And the elves do all that? All that insane amount of food for the four huge tables?"

"Well, five, actually. The teachers' table is right there."

"Holy cow!" I gasp, looking at the small creatures that suddenly start to look a lot like Holly.

"Athena Lockhart," a husky voice calls me, and I look down, to a severe looking elf that's looking at me with a cranky frown.

"Yes?"

"So, you're our new worker," he says. "I'm Pitts, head of the elves."

I confess I haven't payed much thought to what I thought Pitts would look like. Of course, I didn't expect him to look like Holly, but I also didn't imagine that he'd be so… grumpy. He's chubby and lumpy like a loaf of bread, his nose is rounded like a small potato and his eyes are of a common shade of brown. He's wearing the same old greyish clothes that every elf is wearing, but by the look on the other elves' faces when they look at Pitts, it's clear that he's the kitchen's boss.

"Nice to meet you, sir," I say, gently bowing.

Pitts frowns. "Sir? Are you mocking me? Head to work now, little troublemaker."

"But you didn't tell me what to do," I say, baffled.

"Do you know how to make pancake batter?" he asks, simply.

I nod.

"Then go help Cady over there," he says, indicating a skinny house elf that's carrying a basket full of eggs. "And don't mess anything up. Breakfast is in an hour."

I look at Jae, who's on the other side of the kitchens, sitting on a high stool, peeling apples. The elf next to him is slicing them and the one next to him is throwing them in a big saucepan full of wine and spices. Though it seems like a boring task, he has a slight smile on his lips, almost as if he's finding everything very amusing. I let out a sight and walk to Cady, who's separating eggs, flour, sugar and other ingredients to make pancakes.

"Hi, Cady," I say.

Cady immediately lets out a high-pitched shriek, dropping all the eggs she's holding onto the floor. Her chocolate eyes widen as she acknowledges the slimy mess that's running in between in the stones of the floor, letting out a muffled gasp of despair.

"Don't worry," I say, grabbing my wand. " _Ovum Reparo_."

"HEY!" Pitts shouts from the other side of the room. "NO MAGIC IN MY KITCHEN!"

"Sorry!" I respond, as my eyes look back at Cady, who's trembling while collecting the now restored eggs. "I'm so sorry, Cady."

"I-it's okay," she stutters. "We better go back to work."

I spend the next hour mixing pancake batter after pancake batter – plain, with chocolate chips and with blueberries – as Cady pours generous ladles on a buttery pan, flipping them skilfully and them placing them in big plates that another elf comes to reclaim and place upon the long tables, next to big jars of syrup. Cady seems focused and energized the entire time, taking one single break to drink a glass of water and offer me some. Her sweetness reminds me of Holly, which makes me miss her endlessly during my time in the kitchens.

When detention time ends, Pitts calls Jae and I, still looking at us with immense severity. "I'll see you two imps tomorrow. Same time. Same place. Don't be late."

"Am I ever late, Pitts?" Jae replies with a mischievous smile.

Pitts doesn't answer. He simply makes a gesture to dismiss us, and turns around to snap his fingers, making the four tables rise towards the ceiling, completely crossing it as if it isn't solid at all, and then return to the ground, clean and empty.

"Remarkable," I say.

"C'mon," Jae says. "I'm dying to try some of the pancakes you've made."

I leave the kitchens with Jae, walking through the now illuminated hallways that lead to the Great Hall. Jae heads to Gryffindor's table, which is covered by the food we helped prepare. At Ravenclaw's table, Rowan is already eating – her place full of blueberry pancakes – and she opens a smile when she sees me.

"Hey! How was detention?"

"Better than I thought," I say. "I spend the morning cooking. Was quite nice, actually."

"Well, then I think Dumbledore didn't want to truly punish you, after all," she says. "Moreover, knowing him as we do, I wouldn't be surprised if your work in the kitchens was a plan of his for you to figure something out yourself."

"I don't think I'll uncover any secrets in the eggs, Row." I say, amused.

"Don't laugh," she says. "After seeing all we've seen, few things would make me surprised by now."

The sound of loud and hasty steps calls our attention, and we turn to see Penny entering the Great Hall, looking like she's buried in angst and despair. She walks straight to us – her hair looking all messy and frizzy – and we can see the devastation in her blue eyes.

"My sister is missing."

"Except that," Rowan says, the pancake falling from her fork.

"What do you mean?" I say, my eyes widening.

"She didn't return to the common room after dinner last night," Penny says, melancholic. "And her friends said she wasn't there this morning too. Sprout has requested the teachers and the ghosts to look for her."

"They'll find her, Penny," Rowan says.

"Yeah, she sounded very adventurous," I say. "She's probably exploring the castle."

"She better be," Penny says. "With all these curses that have been ravaging the castle lately, I can't even process the idea of her being in the forest or in a spider web…"

"We'll help you find her, Penny," Rowan says. "We'll join the whole squad to do it. Just have some breakfast. We'll need the energy to walk through the whole castle."

"Exactly," I add. "I'll even fly if I have to."

Penny's eyes get watery as she tries to form a glimpse of a smile. "Thank you, girls. I… I just need to calm down."

She walks mechanically towards Hufflepuff's table, almost crashing on her seat. Rowan looks at me with concern and her eyes expresses everything I've been thinking.

 _Another curse is breaking through._

* * *

"It's happening again, isn't it?" Talbott asks me as we look for a safe place to transform, while taking the walk to look for Beatrice. "This is another curse."

"It's very likely," I say. "But it could be anything and that's what's most concerning."

"First it was the cursed ice," he says. "Then boggarts. Then the sleepwalking curse. What do you think will happen next?"

I shake my head, worried. "I don't know. We can only imagine."

The sweet looking face of Beatrice Haywood accompanies me from the breakfast table to the back of Greenhouse Four, where Talbott and I find a place away from curious eyes to transform into our animagi forms. He places a gentle kiss on my lips before his lips curling into a smirk and then shapeshifting into a beak. I watch him spread his wings to the sunny air and fly towards the Forbidden Forest.

Being owls the most common bird around the castle, it is easier and most unnoticeable for me to fly around without raising suspicions. I allow the second heartbeat to get louder inside of me as I open my wings, enjoying the touch of the wind against my feathers, and fly to the Owlery.

My owl eyes scan the place, but only find the solitude of the morning that, fallen upon the many owls, makes them find rest underneath their wings. My hearts begin to beat with anxiety as I look for Beatrice over every rooftop, at the Astronomy Tower and even upon the bleachers at the Quidditch pitch. In the distance, I can see Talbott hovering the forest; diving between the trees every now and then, and then returning to the bright blue sky.

As the morning grows lighter – the sun getting higher and higher up on the sky – I begin to feel a little hopeless. Down on the gardens I can see Bill and Barnaby looking near the lake's edge; Tulip and Tonks are searching within the castle, and I can see them looking behind tapestries as I fly near the windows; Rowan and Charlie are looking for Beatrice inside the library – Madam Pince even gave them permission to search within the Restricted Session -; Ben is looking inside every greenhouse; and by the forest's edge, looking conspicuous as always, I see that even Rakepick and Merula are looking for Penny's little sister.

I find a safe place to land under the pitch's bleachers, transforming back into my human form. I rush back to where my friends are, at the Courtyard, and where Penny is melting into tear drops, looking desperate and forlorn. Next to her, Barnaby is caressing her hair, looking very upset to see her cry. Even Liz joined us, nervously playing with her bead necklace.

"I-I don't understand," Penny sobs. "Where could she be?"

"We'll find her, Penny," Bill says. "I know we will."

Bills words are half hope and half a promise. They linger in the horizon when we enter the castle to eat lunch and promptly return to the grounds to look for Beatrice. I watch the spark in Penny's eyes fade as the hours rush by, leaving a map of tears and despair on her face. I try my best to search through every inch of the castle – every corridor and every passage – until all that's left is a greyish sunset and a pouring rain. As the raindrops fall down, mixing with the salty droplets that fall down my sweet friend's face, I begin to feel hope getting lost inside myself too. I've been there many times – where the tears and the rain are the same -, but I've never felt this scared. The last thing I want is for Penny to be like me.

Forever looking for a sibling.

* * *

* All The Right Moves, by One Republic.


	91. Year 5: Chapter 7 - Through The Looking

**A/N:** (insert awkward silence here)... Well, hello everyone. Firstly, I deeply apologize for my long unexplained absence here. I've been away from this website for almost four months, due to a series of unfortunate events and, well, daily responsabilities. However, being apart from this story seemed to increase a bunch of things I've been struggling with - anxiety being one of them - so I figured it was time to get back. Wanting or not, Athena is a part of me now and I really missed being connected to her. I have two other chapters that had been written back in September, so I'm going to post them in the course of the next weeks, and hopefully I'll be able to write some more. I hope you guys enjoy today's chapter. I wanna thank you a lot for all the new followers and for everyone who sent me messages, asking if I was okay. You guys are amazing. Without further ado, let's head to the chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Seven - Through the Looking Glass**

 _There is not a single word, in the whole world_

 _That could describe the hurt_

 _The dullest knife just sawing back and forth_

 _And ripping through the softest skin there ever was*_

* * *

I wish I could say that we found Beatrice before nightfall. That before a single star had shown in the dark blue velvet sky, we already had her back, safe within Penny's arms.

But that's not what happened.

It hurt like a thousand needles seeing Penny going back to her common room, buried in anguish and hopelessness, and heading to a sleepless night that she'd spend worrying and wondering if her sister was okay. Amongst all the pain, I was wishing there was something I could do. I spent the entire night wishing to be more powerful, just so I could find Beatrice and bring her safely back to her sister's side.

That was one of the longest nights ever. I got out of bed several times, and each time I'd go to the window and consider transforming and looking for Beatrice during the night, but the shapes and silhouettes against the clouds told me that the teachers were already doing it. The Prefects were even summoned to help look for Beatrice instead of doing rounds, and Rowan's empty bed wasn't bringing me any more peace of mind.

When the morning came and I had to take my lonely and tired walk to the kitchens, Beatrice's sweet face was in my mind all the time. When I left detention and went to the Great Hall, it was Penny's dismayed face that brought me even more anguish. We spent the entire Sunday looking for Beatrice, without success. Penny became more and more sad and was already considering writing home to tell her parents that her sister was gone. And the tears, unceasingly falling down her beautiful face, were now her continuous companions.

"I don't know what else to do," Rowan tells me when we were heading back to the Great Hall for dinner. "James and I checked the entire West Wing last night. There's no sign of Bea."

"I remember back in third year, when Penny was upset because her friend had passed away," I say. "I never wanted to see her that way again. And now she seems so hopeless…"

"We need to find a way to find Beatrice."

During dinner, Penny doesn't eat. Rowan, Tulip, Talbott and I watch her during the entire meal; her plate remains empty and clean. Her eyes, sunken and bruised, show all the desperation inside of her. After the meal ends, as we're leaving the Great Hall, Bills lands a hand on my shoulder.

"Athena," he says. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," I say, as my friends continue their way to Ravenclaw's Tower.

I follow Bill to the Courtyard; he remains silent the entire time, looking like he's buried in thoughts. When we get there, I realize we're not alone. Sitting by the fountain, looking bored as always, is Merula.

"What is she doing here?" I inquire, when Bill walks directly to her.

"It's not like I'm thrilled to be here too, Lockhart," Merula says, dry.

"This is not time to exchange barbs," Bill says. "We're a team now. Beatrice's disappearing clearly has something to do with the Cursed Vaults. If we're going to look for them together, we need to get along."

"What about Madam Rakepick? Shouldn't she be here too?" Merula asks.

"We can't rely on her for everything," he says. "We still need to be proactive."

I cross my arms. "And what do you suggest?"

He looks at us with seriousness. "We need to start looking for the next Vault. Right away."

Merula rolls her eyes. "But we don't even know where it is, Weasley. How will we know where to begin?"

Bill's eyes focus on me. I clench my jaw, remembering Professor Snape's words. That I have to make Rakepick _trust_ me. However, despite my endless distrust, Penny is deeply more important to me than any issues I might have with either Rakepick or Merula.

I let out a long sigh, staring at the castle's silhouette against the night sky. "I might have a clue."

* * *

Talking to Merula about everything that's been going on as if we're the best of friends was definitely one of the most bizarre things that ever happened to me. She kept her face serene during my entire speech, only moving to nod at certain points of my monologue. Bill, standing next to us, grew more serious with every word; his jaw was clenched, and his arms were crossed, and he looked extremely worried.

I told them about the Dark Wizard's attack on Ben and me. I didn't drag Professor Snape's name into the conversation, so I simply said that the Portkey theory was all mine. I told Merula about the items we found in the previous Vault – the dragon picture and the tiny sweater – and she seemed disappointed that the Vaults held such useless things.

"I know that they sound like worthless junk," I told her. "But they are clues to the next Vault."

She seemed to get more contemplative after that. Her violet eyes, glistening under the moonlight, looked like they were trying to connect the dots of everything that made the Cursed Vaults so… mysterious.

"I'll try to figure out where these two objects can lead us," she said. "I'll let you know when I'm successful."

"When? Not _if_?" I questioned.

She smirked. "Oh, silly Lockhart. There's no such thing as _if_ in my vocabulary."

She returned to the castle, leaving me alone with Bill. He looked at me, his eyes revealing all the concern inside of him. I barely noticed, with the passing of the years, how much he grew. His face was now of a grown man – mature, serious and responsible -, his hair was longer, now touching his shoulders, and the subtle shade around his jaw told me that he had started to shave.

"I can't believe these curses started to reave everything so soon," he said, dismayed.

"This is just the beginning, Bill."

"You don't trust Merula, do you?" he asked. "Nor Rakepick."

I shook my head. "But I'll work with them. For the greater good."

He smiled softly. "I won't say that I trust them either."

"Then why you agreed to work with them?" I asked.

"Rakepick sent a recommendation letter to Thomas Buckling," he told me. "He's her boss at Gringotts. He'll give me the opportunity to work there when I finish Hogwarts."

"Bill, you don't have to subject yourself to this just to get an awesome job. You are an incredible wizard. You'll get everything you-"

"It's not just the job, Athena," he said. "It is, of course, an important part of it all, but my reasons aren't so futile."

He looked at me, sombre. "I'm doing this to end these curses faster. I want my siblings to attend a safe school. You've seen what happened to Percy. I want to make this castle better… safer… before I leave."

I smiled. "You're a wonderful big brother, Bill."

"Thank you, Athena. We do all sorts of crazy things for our families."

"Yes. Yes, we do."

* * *

Penny seems to get more dismayed with the passing of the hours. Not even the beautiful Sunday morning, full of blooming flowers and chirping birds, is able to bring a smile to her lips. At breakfast, she doesn't eat again. We watch her leave the Great Hall, tears in her eyes, and return to her common room.

"Seeing Penny cry makes me feel like crying," Barnaby says when he walks past us, looking extremely worried about her.

"We need to find out how everything is connected," Rowan says. "The Vault items… Portkeys… didn't Rakepick say something about a map?"

I nod. "Last year she was inquiring Mr. Filch about it."

"It's all so strange…"

We head straight to the library; Madam Pince gets shocked when she sees our big group entering the lonely place. We find a table long enough to fit the ten of us – Liz and Percy join us, with his pet rat on his shoulder – and begin to look for information about Portkeys and whatever else that might help us.

"So, a Portkey is an enchanted object that transports anyone that touches it to a specific location," Rowan reads. "Most of the time, it's an everyday object that doesn't draw Muggle attention."

"Like what?" Liz asks. "Like a shoe?"

"I guess it could be," Rowan says. "Athie, was the Dark Wizard holding a shoe?"

I frown. "No. Not that I saw any."

"He was probably holding something small," Tulips says. "Something hard to see."

"Doesn't the Ministry supervise these sorts of things?" Rowan asks. "Underage magic usage… transportation…"

"The Ministry is flawed," Bill says. "I think we've all recognized that after they erased the twins' parents' memories last year."

I shiver. "I'm terrified to think that they might be involved…"

"What? The Ministry? That's nonsense," Percy says.

"Perce, I know you want to be Minister of Magic one day, but you've got to admit that the Ministry isn't perfect," Charlie says.

Percy mumbles, returning to the pile of books in front of him. We spend the whole morning searching for any information that could help us, but nothing leads to nowhere. So, we return to the Great Hall for lunch – frustrated and dismayed – and as we eat, we realize that Penny never shows up for the meal.

Tonks looks for her in their common room. "She isn't there." And we begin to feel tremendously worried. This time, we don't search the castle for Beatrice, but for Penny instead.

"Whoever finds her, cast _Vermillious_ to warn if she's in danger and _Verdimillious_ to say she's okay," Bill tells us, and we part ways, looking for her everywhere.

Talbott and I search for her at the rooftops and, from where we're flying, we can see Rowan and Charlie scanning the Quidditch pitch. My heart feels heavy and uneasy, and I spend the whole flight wondering if I'm going to relieve another episode of what happened to Julian and Nora.

He lands at the top of the Astronomy Tower roof, transforming back. I follow him, feeling my stomach slightly twist when I see how far we are from the ground.

"Still afraid of heights?" he asks me, amused.

"Only of extremely unsecure ones," I say, wrapping my arms around his waist.

He looks at me, his garnet eyes glistening under the strong afternoon sun. "You are dazzling. Did you know that?"

I blush furiously, feeling my heart race with anticipation as he shortens the distance between us, bringing his face closer to mine. I get lost in his eyes, mesmerized by how they can be red and gorgeous, but also reflect the bright blue sky and the sparse clouds. They're like mirrors to his soul and in his arms, intoxicated by his marvellous perfume, I wanna drown forever.

Before our lips can touch, I see him frown and immediately look back. Cutting the blueness of the sky, a myriad of greens explode like fireworks. At first, I feel the concern invade my body, but as I remember that the green means that Penny was found and is okay, I allow myself to relax.

"Let's see if she's okay," he tells me, placing a soft, delicious kiss on my lips.

We transform back into birds, flying across the sunny skies as the warm sunshine kisses our feathers. Talbott is much faster than I am, so I follow him from a distance, watching as his wings beat and as he skilfully inclines his body to land.

The Courtyard is crowded with students, but we manage to land in a tree nearby and transform under the branches. Talbott jumps softly to the ground, opening his arms to get me as I mimic him. I feel his arms closing around me before my feet even touch the ground. He kisses my forehead – sweet and gentle – and we rush to Ben, who's standing near the Artefact Room, wand in hand.

"She's in there," he says, and we watch Tulip and Tonks rush through the Courtyard towards where we're standing.

We enter the room, closing the door behind us. The only source of light inside in a candelabrum that is rested upon a wooden box. Next to it, Penny is sitting on the ground, over an old, ragged rug, with her legs crossed and a bunch of potion ingredients spread around her.

"I think she's catatonic," Ben says. "She hasn't moved a muscle since I found her."

Indeed. Penny is sitting static, her elbows rested on her knees, staring at the bluish potion that simmers inside the cauldron in front of her. Her eyes seem to be lost somewhere inside the liquid and she's sitting so still that it seems that she isn't even breathing.

"Penny?" I call, kneeling next to her. "Are you okay?"

She doesn't look at me. At first, I don't even think she'll move, but then she slowly reaches out to get a spoon to mix the potion. She adds a powder from a small flask and mixes it again. She then returns to her default, motionless position.

"Penny, what are you doing?" I try asking.

"I've lost count of how many ingredients she's added…" Ben says.

"Whatever she's brewing, seems more complicated than anything I've ever seen," I say, eyeing the many jars and flasks around her. "Powdered Doxy eyes… Porlock blood… Gryndilow bile? _Jesus…_ "

"It's because I just invented it," Penny says, breaking her silence.

She looks at us, her eyes full of purpose. "I'm going to find my sister after I drink this potion. Nothing will be able to stop me. Everything will be fine. My sister is fine."

"What is this potion supposed to do?" I ask her.

Her eyes return to the cauldron. "It will allow me to speak telepathically with her. And once I know what she's thinking, I'll find out where she is."

"Like a Legilimency potion?"

"Exactly," she says, mixing the liquid one more time.

We watch her grab a tall mug and pour a bunch of the now transparent liquid into it. It smells a bit like lemongrass but given the origin of the ingredients inside of it, I'm sure it won't taste like it.

She takes the mug to her lips, drinking the entire content in a few big gulps. She cleans her mouth with her sleeve, closing her eyes as we all wait in silence.

At first, it seems like it worked. Her face rests serene as a soft smile appears on her lips. However, as the minutes drag, I watch her smile fade away and a big glistening tear fall from the corner of her eye. I rest a hand on her shoulder, and my gesture makes her burst into tears.

"Oh, Penny," I say, wrapping my arms around her.

She grapples my blouse, drenching my shoulder with her warm, sorrowful tears. "I can't! I just wanted to know that she's okay! That she's safe! Now I'll never find her!"

I tighten my embrace around her. "It will be all right."

"How can it be all right?" she sobs. "My sister is missing!"

"We'll create another potion," I say. "I know you'll be able to brew something brilliant."

"It's no use," she cries. "What if I never find her?"

I sigh in her hair. "Then we'll never stop looking," I tell her.

* * *

We manage to convince Penny to leave the dark and dusty Artefact Room and sit with us around the Courtyard fountain. Charlie found a way to smuggle some tea from the kitchens for her and since words won't help us find Beatrice, we all sit in silence. Barnaby wraps an arm protectively around Penny's shoulders as she silently cries. In the desperation within her eyes, I can see my own despair. Many times, I've been afraid that I would never find Jake. It took us many years to get close to finding him, but I don't want to see Penny losing hope as the years go by, wondering if she'll ever find her baby sister.

We see Bill leave the castle, walking to us with dismay. "McGonagall has already notified the Ministry."

"It means that they also lost hope," Penny murmurs, sadly, as many other tears fall down her cheeks.

"Don't lose your hope, Penny," Tonks says, running her fingers through Penny's hair. "We'll find her."

Penny looks down, the tears dropping from her eyes and staining her jeans. My heart breaks with the sight of her so sad and forlorn. She has been there for me so many times before, and not being able to help her when she mostly needs, is something that shatters me.

I look away, watching the hands move in clock, showing us how merciless time is. From the tower balcony, I see a familiar brown and caramel messy hair.

Merula acknowledges us – squinting in our direction - and I watch her disappear, but, shortly after, arise through the opened door. She walks to us with confidence. Her short hair shakes upon her shoulders with every step. Her black combat boots produce heavy sounds on the stone floor and she finally stops in front of us, with an expression that is a blend of seriousness, arrogance and pride.

"I found your sister," she says, solemn.

Penny lifts her head slowly. Her blue eyes meet Merula's violet irises. Though Merula's eyes are fierce and framed by the usual smudged eyeliner, the tears don't wash away the fire inside Penny's eyes.

She looks at Merula. "Where?"

Everything happens so fast that I'm barely able to comprehend my surroundings. Merula turns on her heels, making a gesture for Penny to follow her. As expected, none of us would let her go alone. I watch all my friends stand up and follow them, hasty through the corridors, as I look at Talbott with my heart racing. His eyes express everything I'm feeling.

 _This can't be good._

Merula leads us to the Great Staircase, buried in silence. Penny doesn't question her about her sister's whereabouts. She simply stands next to Merula, her hands clasped together, as the stairs take us to the seventh floor.

I notice Rakepick standing next to the archway that leads to the Divination corridor. She watches us arrive with a grim expression on her usual cocky face.

"I've never seen this sort of Dark Magic," she says.

"I found her by accident," Merula adds.

Right behind Rakepick, wrapped inside a heavy golden frame, is Beatrice. Her figure seems to be blended with the rest of the painting; the dark grass and the dry trees seem to be made of the made material as she. Inside of the portrait's horizon, a lightning strikes.

"Bea!" Penny cries, resting her hands desperately on the painting.

"Penny?" Beatrice says, her voice muffled. "Is that you? Where are you?"

Penny stares at Rakepick. "What happened to her?"

"I've already attempted every spell in my arsenal," she says. "As have both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick. They're currently speaking to the Ministry's Aurors inside Professor Dumbledore's office, which I'm certain will be ineffectual."

"What do you mean?" Penny gasps, the tears returning to her eyes.

"This is no ordinary magic. The only way to free your poor sister is by finding the next Vault and breaking its curse."

"So, this is the current curse?" I ask. "Will this happen to other students?"

Rakepick flashes me a dead serious stare. "We are all doomed to end up trapped within the portraits if we don't find the next Vault."

"But how did she end up in there?" Bill inquires.

"She hasn't been able to give us a clear answer," Rakepick says. "Whatever she's experiencing inside of the portrait appears to be distorting her perception of reality."

She looks at Penny with an expression of pity and slight boredom. "She may soon lose her connection to reality altogether."

"But someone must have seen something!" I say. "The other portraits, perhaps!"

I look at the portrait next to Beatrice's, where thin and serious Mage Merlin stares at us with long entwined fingers.

"This is what happens when you abandon the ways of ancient magic," he says, his voice deep and husky. "To know the curses, you must know what the Vaults were meant to hold."

"Extreme acts of villainy demand extreme acts of mobility!" someone shouts.

"Who said that?" I question.

Bill rolls his eyes. "Sir Cadogan."

"Who is Sir Cadogan?" I ask him.

"WHO IS SIR CADOGAN? HAH!" the portrait on the other side of Beatrice says, breaking into laughter short after. " _I_ am Sir Cadogan. The one and only! The mighty! The strong! Some will claim I was sleeping when this egregious act occurred. I say BALDERDASH!"

The portrait bears the image of a short and chubby old man with a long moustache and a very short grey beard. He's wearing a full suit of armour that sparkles in silver and bearing a long, thin sword. Right behind him, a pony grazes upon the infinite grasslands.

Penny looks at him with defiance. "What happened to my sister, Sir Cadogan?"

He scratches his beard, looking very much embarrassed. "Well, I do not know, exactly. I was engaged in other activities…"

"He was sleeping," Merlin says, annoyed.

"Oh, yeah? Why don't you come here and say this to my face, huh, you old hag?!" Sir Cadogan incites, as Merlin simply rolls his wrinkled eyes.

Penny returns to look at Rakepick. "Not even a knight and one of the most powerful wizards can help us."

"Should a curse disturb this hallowed ground again, Sir Cadogan shall strike it down!" the knight shouts.

"This is your punishment for losing touch with ancient magic," Merlin says.

"Penny has never lost touch with ancient magic," I reply.

Merlin's lips curl in a smirk. "I was not talking about her. _You_ were the one who lost touch with it. _You_ were the one who forgot the origins of the source of your power. To the Vaults, _you_ are the curse."

I clench my jaw, staring at his icy blue eyes that could cut steel. He runs his fingers through the extension of his long, white beard and flashes me a complacent smile.

"Do not dismay, half-blood," he tells me. "You will figure it all out. Time has a magic of its own."

"These riddles annoy me deeply," Rakepick says. "Don't worry, Miss Haywood. We'll find a way to free you sister from this dark magic. We just need to find the next Vault."

 _Just…_

Penny looks at me, her eyes bearing pure disposition and determination. "Then I'll do whatever it takes to free Beatrice and prevent anyone else from this awful fate."

I reach out and hold her hand. "And I'll be with you, Penny. In every step of the way."

* * *

* I Hate to See Your Heart Break, by Paramore.


	92. Year 5: Chapter 8 - The Man With The Dra

**N/A:** Hi, everyone! I wanna thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter. I hope you are enjoying Athena's fifth year at Hogwarts. If you have any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Eight - The Man with the Dragon Egg**

 _Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I'll die searching for it  
I can't let myself regret, such selfishness  
My pain and all the trouble caused, no matter how long  
I believe that there's hope*_

* * *

One could say that having a curse ravaging a school is bad enough. However, when it comes to Hogwarts, things can always become more and more difficult. Even with hell breaking through, life must continue. Despite all the turmoil, Penny's despair, Beatrice being trapped inside a portrait and the end of these curses far on the horizon, we still had to return to our regular activities. Even after panic exploded when all the students found out about the new curse.

Rowan and Charlie – being Prefects and having increasingly more important parts during the tribulations – had to return to their rounds and take extra care of the first-year students. Bill had to leave all his worries aside because, as Head Boy, it was his new job to observe every portrait in the castle to make sure no other student was trapped inside the paintings. And I had to continue attending detention and the choir practices while still finding time to investigate Rakepick, study to maintain my impeccable record, help Penny, snog my boyfriend _and_ find time for Quidditch.

 _I knew this year wouldn't be easy…_

I book the Quidditch trials for September 14th. The day is clear and still quite warm, which makes the whole scenery perfect to find two new chasers and one new beater. I join Andre, Liam and Link on the pitch after a particularly relaxing Potions lecture, with my Silver Arrow in hand. The boys look extremely eager to win this year's Cup, despite the curse that is threatening to trap us all inside magic portraits.

"You sure have your priorities, boys," I say, smiling at them. "Which is good. We'll need all the focus and determination possible to endure this year's issues."

There are twelve Ravenclaws standing in the centre of the pitch, waiting anxiously while I talk to the boys. The majority are girls, which makes me wonder if I'll cease to be the only girl in our team. They're looking at each other with friendly smiles but burning fire in their eyes. And that fire looks exactly like what we're needing.

"Andre, as our beater, you'll be the one inspecting Sebastian, Drew and Stella's performances," I tell him. "Link and Liam, you'll analyse Penelope, Vicky, Sky and Sophie. We need to gather the best team possible to kick the other houses' arses this year. Do you understand?"

"Aye, Captain!" Andre shouts.

I smile, amused. "As I've mentioned previously in the letters I sent you during the summer, we'll be doing some thigs differently this year. Just in case, we'll have deputies. From the eight who don't make it as the three main players, we'll choose an extra chaser, beater, keeper and seeker. Okay?"

"Aye, Captain!" Andre repeats, opening a big smile.

I roll my eyes, smirking. "Let's do this."

After such stressful days, it is refreshing to finally climb on my broom and fly across the skies. Flying on a broom and flying as an owl bring me different feelings, but the broom allows me to do things I can't do in the shape of a bird. In addition, flying on a broom isn't illegal… so it makes me feel calmer and freer.

I watch Link release the Quaffle and the two Bludgers, and then take his place around the goal hoops. Gina Clark and Elijah Philips, both second year students, take turns around the other side's hoops, in the hopes of becoming Link's deputy.

I reach for the Golden Snitch, that is excitedly trembling inside my closed pocket, and release it to the sunny air. It flies away, happy to be free, and I follow the golden gleam until it can no longer be spotted amidst the blueness of the sky. Caitlin Adams – a third year -, Blair Balkan – a second year -, and I, case the Snitch around the pitch. We release it every time it's caught, and I take notes on my mind about the girls' performances.

Caitlin is short and with small features; her nose is delicate like a flower bud, and her mouth is so tiny that it looks that she's perpetually puckering up. Despite all her delicacy, she's swift and agile, and catches the Golden Snitch multiple times with her tiny hands. However, Blair seems to be better. She came to the field prepared to be the one chosen to take my place as a seeker if I'm ever unable to play. She has her dark hair tied in a tight bun and her eyes are wide and fierce as a hawk's. She's just a bit taller than Caitlin, but she's faster and astoundingly athletic. Though I enjoyed both their performances very much, my choice is pretty much done.

When we return to the ground – sweaty and tired –, they seem to already be expecting an answer. There are twelve pairs of glistening eyes staring at me, making me feel slightly uncomfortable and pressured. I take a deep breath, telling myself that I can be a good Captain, even if it makes me want to run away.

"Thank you all for coming today," I say. "Your performances were phenomenal and I'm proud of your abilities and hard work. It saddens me that it won't be possible to have all of you in our team this year. However, don't refrain for striving a position next year. Any of you would be an excellent acquisition to our team. That being said, we'll be pinning the results on the Great Hall bulletin board by the end of the week. I wish you all the best of luck."

Andre pulls a round of applause, which makes my cheeks blush and everyone to look at me with excitement. I'm anxious to know who they consider to be suited for our team and, also, for our practices to finally start. Merlin knows the adrenaline will help me deal with all the stress and suffering this year is yet to bring me.

* * *

Regardless of all the chaos unravelling, Rakepick doesn't present a single drop of preoccupation. On Friday, after pinning down the results of the Quidditch trials on the bulletin board, I walk with Rowan and Tulip to the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor. We find our seats in the back of the classroom, trying to stay as far from Merula and Ismelda as possible, and Barnaby sits with Liz on the desk next to us. Ever since we found Beatrice trapped inside the portrait, Barnaby seems to be carrying books about magical art everywhere. Not even Rakepick's imposing presence is threatening enough to make his eyes leave the pages he's reading.

"Morning, class," Rakepick says, and her face is serene as always, as if nothing is going on. "Today we'll be learning the Impediment Jinx. Can anyone tell me about it?"

Ismelda's hand raises towards the ceiling.

"Yes, Miss Murk."

"It is a jinx that hinders the movement of the victim, slowing it down or stopping it in its tracks," she says, confidently.

"Correct. Five points for Slytherin," Rakepick says. "I'm only concerned of your use of the word 'victim'. 'Target' is a better word, Miss Murk."

Rowan looks at me and her lips silently say the word "creep". Rakepick turns to the chalkboard to make the piece of chalk write the information Ismelda just mentioned and, while the words are being written, she makes more questions.

"Is this jinx effective against any opponent?"

This time, Liz raises her hand.

"Miss Tuttle."

"It is ineffective against Lethifolds," she says. "It's also ineffective against armoured opponents like Acromantulas and Blast-Ended Skrewts."

My lips curl in a smile, excited by her flawless answer. She entwines her long fingers and looks at Rakepick with a satisfied smile.

"Very good," Rakepick says. "Five more points for Slytherin. Now, though the Impediment Jinx is ineffective against armoured creatures, it can still affect them if used the correct way. If you are swift and have a sharp eye for targets, you can hit these creatures in the underbelly, where they are unprotected, and use the jinx to immobilise them."

I write down these information as Rakepick continues her lecture. She talks about the creatures Liz mentioned and tells a story about the time she duelled against one hundred Acromantulas. While she goes on with her story, I read more about the jinx on my Dark Arts book. Rowan, on the other side, opens her book about beasts and starts reading about Lethifolds. Her eyes widen with every word and she seems to be half terrified and half intrigued.

It comes as no surprise when Rakepick, after finishing her lecture, asks me to join Merula in the front of the classroom, to perform a demonstration of the Impediment Jinx.

 _Perform…_ As if it is a show of some sort.

Merula seems thrilled to duel me. Even though she has lost every single duel against me – at least the ones she didn't attack me behind my back -, she has the usual cocky smile on her lips and a fire in her eyes that seems to burn in every shade of violet. She raises her wand at me, and her smirk gets more pronounced.

" _Impedimenta!_ " she shouts, excited, as a bold of turquoise flashes towards me.

" _Protego!_ " I shield myself, watching her spell vanish in fading waves of sheer teal.

"Isn't she supposed to let me hit her?" Merula asks Rakepick, who simply smirks.

"I don't think Miss Lockhart would ever willingly allow you to strike her, Miss Snyde."

I aim my wand at Merula. Yes, we might be allegedly on the same side, but it doesn't mean I'll let her simply show up how awesome she thinks she is. I don't even try to portray an imposing figure – like Rakepick surely would -; I just stand there, firmly planted on the ground, with my arm bent and my wand pointed at her. The fact that I look so relaxed is what seems to make her ever more determined to hit me.

" _Impedimenta!_ " she casts again and, this time, out of pure instinct, I don't even cast the shield.

I simply dodge it.

Her jaw clenches as she sees the turquoise spell hit the wall, vanishing right after. Standing near the chalkboard, Rakepick smirks. I'm beginning to feel slightly annoyed by this demonstration and, deep inside me, I wish my shield charm could reflect the Impediment Charm back to Merula's angry face.

" _Impedimenta!"_ she shouts again.

" _Protego!_ " I cast, and the shield that forms in front of me is so corporeal and strong that I can literally see it. Transparent, yes, but standing behind it, it seems like Merula is blurred.

The spell produces the effect that I wished for. The turquoise bolt hits the clear shield and, like a mirror, reflects it straight back towards Merula. She's hit on the chest and makes her lose balance. However, the spell prevents her from falling. She stops mid-air; her heels touch the ground, but the rest of her feet doesn't. Her body is in a dangerous angle, ready to fall as soon as the spell lose strength. I rush to hold her, and she falls heavily on my arms.

Rakepick claps, clearly impressed with our performance. Merula places her feet firmly on the ground and straightens her robes. She looks at me, half annoyed and half embarrassed, and returns to her seat next to Ismelda.

"Very impressive, girls," Rakepick says. "I think… twenty points for both houses for this great demonstration. Miss Lockhart, did you visualise this spell's effect on your mind?"

I nod.

"This is extremely important, class," she continues as I return to my seat. "The strength and the effect of any spell also depends on visualization. Different charms can do many things, and it's not enough to simply be strong or skilled or concentrated. Sometimes, being creative is paramount. Well done, Miss Lockhart."

I sigh, closing my book and putting it back inside my bag. Rakepick dismisses us – a smile still present on her reddish lips – and I leave the classroom with Rowan and Tulip, straight to a less arrogant lesson of Charms with our darling Professor Flitwick.

* * *

At nightfall, while Rowan does rounds and Tulip reads a book in her bed, I take a look at the objects I found inside the last Vault.

The sweater, small enough to fit Holly's slender figure – or is it big enough to fit a larger elf, like Pitts? -, is bright red and the cuffs, hemline and collar are green. It's soft to the touch but looks a little old and the cuffs look shabby. However, it still conserves the bright colour of when it was new, making me think that, whoever owns it, was probably very careful managing it. Was it a gift? An heirloom? A treasure? I bring it close to my face. It smells like lavender and lemongrass.

The portrait, that bears the aggressiveness of a dragon, makes me shiver inside. The huge beast looks at me with fiery eyes and smoke comes out from its snouts. I sigh, nervous, and return the sweater to the bottom of my trunk. The portrait, however, I place inside a book, with a remark to ask Charlie about it on the following day.

Everything surrounding the Cursed Vaults is like a puzzle. One thing that leads to another. One person that teaches a spell that ends up being useful. And Dumbledore… In the background, he seems to have us all tied in a string. He takes us through all this maze of turmoil in the hopes of us uncovering the truth. And in the end, I end up being punished because of it.

Hours later, when my roommates are all lost in their dreams and Rowan returns to the dorm, I find myself staring at the ceiling, picturing awful images in the dark and draped canvas. What if we never find out how to remove Beatrice from the portrait? What if, this time, we don't find the Vault? What if, in the end, I never get my brother back?

I bite my lip nervously and a wolf howls in the distance. A terrible shiver turns through my whole body as I wonder, frightfully, if this year will end badly.

* * *

There's a commotion next to the Great Hall's entrance when I get there with Talbott on the following morning. Charlie is talking excitedly to Bill, Barnaby and Liz, and seems to be exhaling happiness. His big smile creates dimples in his freckled cheeks, and it seems like he's containing himself not to hop around.

"Morning!" I say, walking to them. Talbott, as usual, just flashes them a kind smile.

"Did you hear, Athena!?" Charlie says, looking at me with sparkling eyes. "There's a dodgy wizard in Hogsmeade who's selling an egg!"

I blink. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Rumour is, it's a dragon egg!" he exclaims, happy.

I raise my brows. "Wow! Now I can see why you're so excited."

"I would love to meet this wizard and find out if the rumours are true," he adds.

"But Charlie," I say, hesitantly. "You know that buying and selling dragon eggs is illegal, don't you?"

He smiles. "I know."

I shrug. "Well, we're all going to Hogsmeade today. We could all go meet this mysterious wizard, then."

"Damn, Athena," Bill says, a little amused. "I was counting on you to get this idea out of Charlie's head."

I giggle. "As if a poor mortal like myself would be able to do such thing."

I look to my side. On the corner of Talbott's lip, there's a smile. It tells me that he's either amused by the conversation or extremely interested by the dragon egg. Maybe – and who knows – it's both.

Charlie's excitement can be heard from Ravenclaw's table, where I have a delightful breakfast of pancakes and syrup next to Talbott, Rowan and Tulip. He pours some tea in my cup and adds two sugar cubes. I smile, feeling the butterflies awakening just because he knows this detail about me. My cheeks blush when he runs his fingers through my hair and flashes a smile at me. Deep inside, I wish these feelings never fade.

At Hufflepuff's table, I notice that Penny's face, still very much dismayed, don't look so sorrowful. However, she finishes her meal faster than anyone on her table and leaves the room, followed by a very worried Barnaby. I think about the puzzle that I must solve to be able to free her sister, and my heart tightens with the thought of the time that it will take.

Once we finish our meals, we head to the railway station to enter the carriages. I go with Talbott, Tulip and Tonks, and, from the carriage behind us, I can hear that Charlie is still talking about the dragon egg. Rowan, sitting beside him, doesn't seem to be very excited about it. In fact, she seems a bit concerned.

The ride is smooth and quiet – apart from Charlie's chattering – and the sky is bright blue and cloudless. Talbott wraps his arm around me and places a warm kiss on my temple. In front of us, Tulip smirks mischievously. I feel my cheeks burning and try my best to ignore it, but it is very hard. So many things rush through my mind at once, that it's hard to manage them all.

The village is cheerful as always. The students take their much-needed trips to the book and stationary stores and other take not much needed trips to the candy and prank stores. Tulip and Tonks rush to Zonko's, whispering and giggling about a new fanged frisbee. I watch Charlie, Rowan, Bill and Liz walk to us. It doesn't feel strange to have Liz with us now, but it does feel strange to see Ben running towards us, after leaving the carriage that he was sharing with Merula and Ismelda.

His cheeks are bright red and though he doesn't seem truly scared, he looks very much disconcerted. He joins us in our crowd, and Rowan flashes him a somehow embarrassed gaze. Before she has the chance to say anything to him, Charlie speaks.

"Apparently, the mysterious wizard is spending some time here in the village. We just need to find him!"

"Charlie, this village is small, but not small enough for us to find a single person that could be literally anywhere," Bill says.

"Let's just ask around," Charlie replies.

"And won't anyone find strange that a bunch of teens are looking for an unknown man that is selling a dragon egg?" Talbott says, after a long time in silence.

"We don't need to say it's a dragon egg," Charlie says. "Just a regular egg…"

"'Cause buying eggs is so regular…" Rowan says.

"It is!" he says.

"At the grocery store," she adds. "Not at Hogsmeade."

"Okay, okay," I say, interrupting them. "We'll be spending the whole day here if we don't move. Let's go find this wizard."

We start by one of the first stores, which is an Ollivanders franchise. _Run by Mr. Ollivander sister, Mrs. Gwendolyn,_ according to Liz.

"I had to buy a new wand last year," she says to us on our way there. "A Fire Crab bit a chunk of mine, so it got pretty unusable."

The store looks just like the one in Diagon Alley. It is narrow and gloomy, with two tall bay windows and a dark wooden door in between them. The bell rings when we enter and the woman behind the counter flashes us a warm smile.

She's tall and skinny like her brother but looks a bit younger. She's probably in her sixties and her clothes denounce sobriety and efficiency. Her hair is tied in a tight bun, but there are two thin braids that frame her oval face and meet at the back of her head. The lipstick she's wearing is of a brownish shade and her robes are charcoal, long and neat.

"Good morning," she says, and her voice is slightly husky. "How can I help you, kids?"

"Morning, Ma'am," Bill rushes to say. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but we've heard some rumours that there's a wizard in the village selling an egg. Do you happen to know where we can find him?"

Her face withers a little when she realizes we're not there to discuss anything wand related. "Oh. I'm sorry, dear, but I don't think I can help you. Several hawkers walk past this village every single day, but I'm afraid I haven't heard of anyone selling an egg."

I look at Charlie, whose face presents no dismay whatsoever. Rowan, on the other hand, looks a little bummed that we'll be spending our day on a hunt for a dragon egg seller.

Mrs. Ollivander continues. "I advise you to try Puddifoot's. Ginger always knows the fresh gossip, so she might help."

Charlie opens a smile. "Thank you, Ma'am. Thank you so much."

The woman opens a sweet smile as we leave and then proceeds to organize some files that are over the counter. Strangely, something inside of me tells me that we will meet again, but the feeling disappears as soon as I leave the store.

Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop is a few stores away, emphasized by its contrasting pink door and windows and greyish stone front. The window seats bear an immensity of stacked teacups and tea pots, that only by work of magic wouldn't fall or crack. There are also a few cake stands, bearing Victoria Sponge Cakes, pies and a few cinnamon rolls.

The inside smells of honey and Earl Grey. Madam Puddifoot – or Ginger, as Mrs. Ollivander called – is serving a few customers that are sitting in one corner. Her bluish eyes fall straight upon us as she opens a pinkish smile.

"Cake, dears?" she offers.

Rowan looks at me. "I'd like some cake."

"But… the dragon egg," Charlie complains.

Rowan flashes him a piercing stare. "Honey, if we're gonna spend the day searching for an egg, it better be after cake."

"Can't… can't it be afterwards?" he tries. "I promise you I'll get you the largest piece there is."

She looks away, pensive. "Yeah, I guess it will work."

As Charlie and Bill walk to Madam Puddifoot to ask her about the mysterious man, I see Rowan look at me and wink.

"You gotta learn how to bend them," she says, amused.

We wait while Charlie, Bill and the tea shop's owner exchange delighted a laughter. They talk for a few minutes and, when they turn to join us, Charlie has a joyful expression on his freckled face.

"We have a clue," he says. "She told us that the strange man has been seen frequently on The Three Broomsticks."

Rowan rolls her eyes. "Figures. A strange man doing illegal stuff… Probably drowning in Fire Whisky."

"We don't know that," Charlie says. "Anyway, let's go! I can't wait to meet this man."

We return to the beginning of the stoned street, where the pub is located. There are some enchanted sponges cleaning the windows and a broom is sweeping the door sill, and politely moves to the side to let us pass. Inside, Madam Rosmerta is talking to the Zonko's owner, who's drinking a pinkish liquid from a tiny glass and playing with his long, thin moustache. There's no one else inside the pub apart from them.

"I don't think he's here," Bill says.

The door opens and we turn to meet the shadiest man I have ever seen. He looks, to me, a lot like I pictured Gríma Wormtongue from Lord of the Rings. Tall, skinny, pale like the moon, with long and greasy faded black hair and dark circles so preeminent that shows the obvious lack of sleep. In addition to all his strangeness, is the fact that he's wearing a black and dark-grey outfit and didn't took the hood off his head.

"Must be him," Charlie says, excitedly.

"How do you know?" Bill asks.

"I think it's pretty obvious, Billy," Rowan says.

The man enters the pub and walks straight to a table on the corner. He hits down, staring intensely at this pale hands, until Madam Rosmerta comes to take his order. He speaks to her in a low, hissy tone, and she leaves to the bar, returning right after with a glass of Fire Whisky. Rowan flashes a condescending gaze at Charlie, but he ignores her. He walks straight to the man, and we follow him. For some reason, I find myself looking for my wand inside my jeans' pocket.

"I'm greatly sorry to disturb you, sir, but I've heard that you're selling an egg," Charlie says, straight to the point.

"Smooth, Charlie," Bill mocks. "Very smooth."

He man raises his eyes – black as the night – to meet Charlie's excited face. His thick eyebrows denote no emotion.

"I'm Alistair Fidgen," he says, gloomily. "Otherwise known as your new favourite person."

Charlie's smile broadens.

"Why, you ask?" the man continues. "Because I can get you an extremely rare dragon egg. For cheap."

Rowan leans toward my ear. "Sounds like a very rehearsed speech, don't you think?"

I nod.

"How did you get it?" I proceed to ask.

The man smiles. It's a soft, almost annoyed smile, that is barely a line across his ivory face. "Where there's a will, there's a way. Mine involves a MacFusty who owes me a favour."

"Did you say MacFusty?" Charlie asks, his voice showing all his excitedness. "They're the clan who raise Hebridean Black Dragons on the Hebrides islands!"

"Ah, so you know your stuff," Alistair says. "Then you must know how rare of an opportunity this is…"

"Can we see it?" I ask. "The egg?"

The man's eyes look straight into mine. Cold. Dark. Emotionless. "I'd love to show you, but it's very risky to bring something as valuable as that out in public. I'll need some assurance that you're good for the money first."

"How much do you want for it?" Charlie asks.

"Normally, I'd accept no less than six hundred galleons. But I like you kids, so it's yours for only five hundred."

Charlie gasps. "Five hundred?"

"It sounds awfully like a scam," I say, distrustful.

"You are obviously a discerning buyer," Alistair says. "What is your name, if I may ask?"

I swallow hard before answering. "Athena Lockhart."

His eyebrows raise. "Like Jacob Lockhart? Haven't seen him in years. A real shame. I liked that kid."

In just one second, the man managed to unhinge my calm heart. The sound of my brother's name is enough to set fire to my mind and incite my curiosity.

"You knew my brother?"

"I make it my business to get to know everyone who visits Knockturn Alley, but he and I talked particularly often," he tells me. "Until he went missing, that is."

"Why would Jacob hang around Knockturn Alley with you?" Rowan inquires.

Alistair doesn't look at her. "Tell you that. For four hundred and ninety-five galleons, I'll give you the dragon egg and I'll tell you everything I know about your brother. Deal?"

I clench my jaw. "How do I know you won't just lie or tell me gossip from the Daily Prophet?"

He smirks. "You don't. I'd love to give you the information for free, but I've got a family to feed, you understand."

I look at Rowan, who shakes her head at me.

"Do you really want to waste this opportunity? After all, I was one of the last people to see Jacob before he vanished."

I feel my hands closing into fists. "Fine. You have a deal."

Alistair opens a large smile full of yellow and slightly greyish teeth. Not a pretty or reliable smile in any way. "Excellent. Send me an owl when you have my money."

I turn around and, without acknowledging my friends, leave the pub. Something inside me feels off. I came to this place to help Charlie find a man and a dragon egg.

Instead, I found more trouble.

* * *

* Let the Flames Begin by Paramore.


	93. Year 5: Chapter 9 - The Magic In The Art

**N/A:** Hello, beautiful people! Thank you so much for all the reviews on the previous chapter and for all the new followers. I hope you all enjoy today's chapter. Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Nine - The Magic in the Arts**

 _I paint a new world, colours of magic are brightenin'_

 _Paint a new world, moon sun and stars are risin'_

 _I paint a new world, magical brushes will lighten_

 _A tame new world_

 _Earth, wind, fire and sea*_

* * *

Through the course of the following week, several letters are written. They all start the same and they all have the same fate: become wrinkled balls inside the trashcan. I write to my father, explaining the whole situation, but as soon as I read the finished text, I feel extremely stupid. Why am I even willing to pay an absurd amount of money for a random egg and a piece of information? I don't know the man and the whole thing reeks of scam. Somehow, I can't help but want to know more about my brother and his fate.

By the next Monday, I'm out of ideas on how to get almost five hundred galleons. Charlie seems to be a little disappointed and I know how much he's like to own a dragon egg. Not that it would be much nicer once the egg hatched, but the memory of him happily hopping along Hogsmeade makes my heart ache a little.

"We could gather our allowances," Rowan suggests during lunch.

"Even if we sum our eleven or twelve allowances, I don't think it will add to five hundred galleons," Tulip says.

"I'm thinking of getting the money from my Gringotts vault," I tell them. "But I'll only be able to get it during the holidays, when I'm home."

Talbott looks at me with seriousness. "Are you sure you want to spend your money on an egg and some suspicious secrets?"

I chew the inside of my cheeks, thinking. "Yes. If anything, or anyone, can lead me to my brother faster, then yes. I'm willing to waste my money on it."

"Do you think Alistair is willing to wait until December?" Rowan asks, concerned.

I sigh. "I don't know. I think I'm going to write him and explain the situation."

"He seemed very eager to do business with you," Talbott says. "I'll be bold and assume that he's going to patiently wait for you to get the money."

My guts seem to be twisted. After having spent the early morning helping Cady make scrambled eggs, I have no interest in eating. I mechanically swallow some pudding just to get some energy to go through the day. Talbott, Rowan and Tulip eye me with concern, but I ignore the feeling of their eyes upon me.

After eating, I place a kiss on Talbott's cheek and make my way to the dungeons, to a lecture that I know won't involve money or dragon eggs or shady wizards.

I hear Rowan and Tulip following me nearby. They're keeping a short distance between us, and I thank them for it. In moments of great turmoil and thoughtful considerations, I much rather be alone with my swirling issues and troubled mind.

Rakepick can't be seen by the classroom door and Merula is already installed on her seat next to Ismelda. They both flash me petulant smirks as I make my way to my usual table, where I sit between Rowan and Tulip. The chalkboard in front of the classroom tells me that today's lecture is about porcupine quills. I open my book on the chapter about the subject and wait for the lesson to start.

Professor Snape leaves his office, carrying a box with, what seems to be, many different porcupine quills. Some of them are plain brown, some are striped in taupe and white, some are black and there's even a very curious one, which seems to be silver.

"As you have probably noticed, today we will be discussing porcupine quills and their many uses in potion making," he says, sharply. "Who can tell me the main potions in which this ingredient can be used?"

This time, I don't raise my hand. It doesn't prevent Professor Snape from landing his eyes upon me, but I don't sustain his stare and simply focus on the book in front of me. Next to me, I see Rowan shyly raise her hand.

"Yes, Miss Khanna," Professor Snape says.

I watch her swallow hard before answering. "It can be used in the preparation of the Cure for Boils and the Elixir to Induce Euphoria."

"Indeed," he says, simply. "And who can tell me other uses for this ingredient, apart from potion making?"

On the other side of the classroom, Liz raises her hand. "It can be used to make the Porcupine Robe, which protects the wearer from anyone who tries to physically attack them."

"Correct, Miss Tuttle. Now pay close attention to the lecture. Some questions about it will definitely be on your exams."

Rowan immediately dips her pen in the ink and starts to write every single word he says. She highlights every part he seems to put emphasis on and even takes note on some books he mentions about common potion ingredients.

I try to keep myself attentive to the lesson and ignore the thoughts that keep on piercing my mind. That a man – strange, dark and bizarre – knows something about my brother. That such information is going to cost me… a lot. That, no matter what I do, I can't seem to get closer to Jake.

When the lecture ends, I look at my notes: sloppy, kinda messy and overall awful. I make a small reminder on the side, to remake them properly. The watch on my wrist tells me it's ten after three. I rip off a page of my notebook and scribble a message to Alistair Fidgen.

 _I'll have your money after Christmas. Can you wait until then?_

I have twenty minutes until the first Quidditch practice of the year; time enough to rush to the Owlery to send my shady message to the shadiest wizard ever.

 _Merlin, I hope he waits…_

* * *

Everyone is participating the Quidditch practice. Not only the new players – Penelope, Sebastian and Vicky -, but also our deputies. Blair is exultant to be able to join us and help if I'm ever unable to play. The boys chose Stella as a beater deputy, Noelle as a keeper and Sky as a chaser. I'm pretty optimistic with our team selection. I think that, with enough dedication, we might beat Charlie and Gryffindor this year.

"In honour of our former Captain, let's run around the pitch a few times to warm up," I say, and they look at me like I'm crazy. "Am I being unclear? C'mon! Chop chop!"

If there's something to be said about the whole process of leading them, is that it is immensely fun. I run right after Blair, that is last in line, and accompany them, calling for more laps, until we complete five. We all stop, catching our breaths, and I wipe the sweat from my forehead.

"All to your brooms!" I say, and our practice finally begins.

Our new team additions are exceptional. Sebastian proves to be a wonderful beater, and Vicky and Penelope are swift and agile. Even our deputies are incredible, raising the hope inside of me that, this year, we'll have the Quidditch Cup back.

Blair catches the Snitch as many time as I do. When I graduate and she takes my place, she'll be a hundred times better than she is now. I don't know what her career goals are, but if she ever decides to follow a career in Quidditch, she'll definitely be famous. Her movements are natural, and her sharp eyes can spot the spark of the golden ball even if it's flying on the other side of the pitch.

Andre, Sebastian and Stella engage in a never-ending duel against the Bludgers, which seem to return to them with such rage that is almost like they understand that they're being mistreated.

An hour later, sweaty and tired, I dismiss them with a smile on my face. My body feels relaxed and my mind feels at ease. I return my broom to the Broom Closet and find my way back to Ravenclaw Tower for a much-deserved shower. I change into normal clothes and find a place to lounge in the common room.

I calmly redo all my Potions notes and do a little research on porcupine quills on all my extra books about potions. The process adds to the tranquillity I'm feeling, and, for a while, I forget about Alistair and his dragon egg. I dip my raven quill inside the inkpot and make some more annotations on the edges of the paper, pulling arrows to add important information and adding some footnotes about potions that I'm interested in learning. I'm so concentrated that I almost jump out of my skin when Talbott shows up, unannounced and extremely quiet, from behind the sofa.

"Holy Merlin!" I gasp, placing my hand instinctively upon my racing heart.

He giggles. "What was keeping you so focused?"

I take a few long breaths before answering. "I was studying forms of depluming eagles."

He smirks. "It's almost dinner time."

I look at my watch. I spent the whole afternoon studying and redoing my notes. I run my fingers across my lower lids, to awaken myself, being careful not to rub my hands over my mascara. Talbott gently grabs my books, notebook and quill and places it softly upon the thick rug in front of the sofa. He then finds a place next to me, leaning on to place a burning hot kiss upon my lips.

His scent numbs me before I even have the chance to kiss him back. The involving smell of cinnamon, clove and nutmeg makes me feel like I'm diving inside cookie dough. It's sweet and warm and delicious and makes my entire body melt in his arms.

The sound of hooting owls in the distance, crickets and his body resting dangerously over me is all I can hear. The common room, empty and silent, engulfs us in it relentless yet strange sensuality. The sofa seems softer and every sound is enhanced, echoing back to my ears and making my heart race with every touch. My cheeks blush when I feel his black robe falling onto the floor, and even harder when I find myself boldly wrapping my fingers around the buttons of his shirt.

This isn't any different of what we've been doing all summer. The main difference is that, back in our apartments in Brighton, and under the hot summery sun, we weren't wearing much to begin with. We always had naked arms and legs and we never felt like removing much more. This time, however, it's different. We're separated by so many layers of clothes and by the sight of immorality that it's makes it almost unbearable to be so far away from his ablaze skin.

Talbott's touch, always gentle and chivalrous, is also subliminally sensual and full of second intentions. He whispers poem verses by my ear, kisses me ardently on the corner of my lips and leaves a burning trail down my jaw, neck and collarbone. Each contact, sensation and texture take me away to our own private world, where we lay upon rosemary fields and taste the morning tea on each other lips. The softness of his hair strands in between my fingers make me forget everything: my brother, Penny and Beatrice, Alistair and the egg, detention and Quidditch duties, Rakepick and my promises to Professor Snape. Inside Talbott's arms, everything else disappears.

It isn't until our bodies are extremely pressed together and that my legs wrap around his hips that I finally feel it. I have felt it before, but not with this intensity. It's a desire… a lustful wish. An almost unbearable will to be even closer to him. It makes me blush severely and brings my heart to an unhinged race. And the fact that I can feel – so distinct and hard – that he wants me just as much, is what finally brings me back to reality; to the fact that we're making out in the middle of our common room. A snog that, in another place, could easily lead to something else.

I push him away gently. "We should go eat dinner."

He smiles softly; his lips reddish. He places a delicate kiss upon my lips before stepping back, buttoning his shirt and offering me his hand. I fix my hair and my wrinkled clothes, rushing to my dorm to leave my bag and books, and return to the common room to accompany him to the Great Hall.

My heart, beating heavily the entire time, makes me write a mental note to myself. Something that, if things continue to proceed in this pace, I should have in hands.

The time has come for me to ask Rowan about the Persephone's Pome potion.

* * *

Seventeen pomegranate seeds touched by moonlight.

Dried snapdragon petals.

Rose quartz powder.

Hellebore syrup.

And, surprisingly, three porcupine quills.

Though the ingredients aren't quite hard to find, the colour of the potion makes it very distinguishable. Despite the confidence that I'm trying to project that I'm being smart and taking care of myself, I also feel anxious by the thought that anyone can see that I'm drinking such potion.

And by anyone, I just mean my dad.

I spend the following week thinking about the conversation he had with me and the several attempts to talk to me about the subject. The thing about the Erumpent couple… just makes me shiver with embarrassment. I drown in thoughts, considering talking to Madam Pomfrey about, but end up talking to my best friend instead.

"Rowan," I say, at Friday night, when we're studying together in the library. The potion, safely stored in ten amber flasks inside my nightstand drawer, is done and concealed by the flasks' colour. "When we spent Christmas at the Weasleys… and you and Charlie…"

She raises her eyes to look at me from behind her glasses and her cheeks blush a little. "Yes?"

I swallow hard. "What… made you realise… it was the right moment?"

She blinks a few times. "Well, I… I don't know for sure. I really… wanted to be with Charlie. It felt right."

"Did you question your age?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "Sometimes I still do. I wonder if I shouldn't have waited… but then again... Well, I don't know. It felt like the right moment," she says, looking away. "Also, my family is very... sufocating. I've been told my whole life to be a pure girl and marry untouched, but it just sounds... Ugh, it sounds stupid. Makes me feel repressed, to say the very least."

I look down. "Sorry, Row."

"It's okay, Athie," she says. "At least I'm being able to ejoy my life. Somehow, Hogwarts is my freedom away from home."

I smile softly. "And... how… how was it?

She blushes. "A little weird. I felt comfortable, but also a little self-aware of everything. And it was just a tiny bit painful, but definitely less than being struck with a jinx."

I smile, timidly, feeling a little stupid. "Thanks for… hmm… the recipe."

A smile appears on her lips. "Anytime. And don't worry about it so much, Athie. You're dating an impressive gentlemen. Talbott won't pressure you if you're not ready."

I blush furiously. "I know. It's not about him that I'm worried about."

She smirks. "Oh, my dear sinner friend. Who would've thought that behind such witty blue eyes lurks the soul of a libertine?"

"Who the hell are you? Marquis de Sade?" I say with a giggle.

She smiles. "No. I'm your best friend and I'm truly happy to be able to walk through all these womanhood phases next to you."

I smile back. "Yeah. Me too," I say, looking down. "I wonder if Tal is worried about these things too."

She giggles. "Oh, Athie. He most certainly is."

* * *

There are agitated chattering on the following day, right outside of the library, when Rowan and I leave after lunch, carrying some Herbology books. A few younger students seem to be involved in an excited talk about someone else and we can't help but overhear their conversation.

"A beautiful woman, yes," one of them says. "Wearing a _hijab_."

"How do you even know that it is called a _hijab_?" another boy says.

"I read One Thousand and One Nights and did some research about it," he says. "It's an amazing culture."

"That book is for girls."

"I'm not the one with a copy of Little Women under the pillow, having a crush on Laurie," the boy replies.

"I have a crush on Beth and you know it."

"Yeah, right."

Rowan and I giggle, but we can't help but wonder who this mysterious women in the _hijab_ is. Along the corridor, many other conversations break through, all regarding the beautiful stranger.

"She went straight to Dumbledore's office," a seventh-year Slytherin says. "Was carrying a bunch of books on Magical Art."

"I could care less about the books she was carrying," her friend says. "I only had eyes for her gown. I'm positively sure it was made of the finest silk. So black that I could almost see myself reflected in the fabric. And that starry _hijab_? I wonder if I'd look good with something similar."

"Don't be silly, Margot. That's part of her culture. You'd just look like an idiot."

"You're just jealous that I can pull off purple eyeshadow and you can't."

I look at Rowan with a frown. Knowing the Headmaster's odd ways of dealing with things, he must've called someone to deal with Beatrice's curse. I hold the books firmly in my arms – a little too firm, and the hardcover leaves marks in my forearms -, wondering if the stranger will end up being just like Rakepick.

Other discussions about the woman seem to follow us all the way to the Greenhouses, but when we meet our friends and sit to listen to Professor Sprout's lecture, silence falls upon us. The only chattering is the one inside my head, where the many Athenas within me seem to be extremely interested in discussing Dumbledore's whimsical ideas.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Professor Sprout says. "Today we shall study this beauty over here," he indicates a long flower box with many lined pink flowers. Their many long petals are arranged in a torch shape and the long white stamens have delicate blue lines that make the flowers look extremely ethereal. "Who can tell me what these are?"

For Professor Sprout's surprise, Tonks is the one who raises the hand. "It's a Swamp Pink, Professor."

"Correct, Miss Tonks," she replies. "Five points to Hufflepuff. Now, who can tell me its main properties?"

"It's a water plant that can be used to escape from many aquatic beasts. All you need to do is crush it in your hand and it releases a toxin that repels mainly carnivorous beasts," Tonks says.

"Impressive, Miss Tonks," Professor Sprout says. "I see you've been reading Winogrand's Wondrous Water Plants, correct?"

Tonks nods.

"Very well. Ten points to Hufflepuff."

Tulip smiles at Tonks, who smiles back proudly.

"Unfortunatelly, this is an extremely endangered species," Professor Sprout says. "So what I'll be teaching you today is how to extract the seeds and properly plant them, in order to disseminate this plant."

We are talked through the steps to prepare the perfect soil mixture – moss, peat, clay and a dash of quartz sand – and then through the delicate and extremely precise process of separating the fertilized flowers from the others. It takes a lot of eye-hand coordination to cut the tiny fruit in half to get to the seeds, which are even smaller. To put them in the vases, we need to poke a hole in the soil with our fingers and add specifically three seeds to each hole and then add a tiny bit of Eartha's Magical Fertilizer before covering it with soil. It's a delicate process, but at least it keeps my mind busy.

Rowan, next to me, deals with the difficulty of handling the seeds with a long tweezer, but right next to her, Tulip and Tonks seem to be having an immensity of fun.

When the lesson ends, our gloves are covered in dirt and our shoulder muscles are tired and sore. We walk back to the castle to the next class, which is Transfiguration. Tonks and Tulip walk nearby, but Penny leaves a large space between us and has her nose buried in a book of mossy green pages.

"You were amazing today, Tonks," I say.

She looks at me surprised and smile. "Thank you. My mother actually gave me an incredibly long lecture about performing well academically or I'd lose my allowance to buy prank items and, well… let's just say it was effective."

"In the end, she values pranks more than she values education," Tulip adds with an amused grin.

"Well, pranks are important too," Rowan says. "You two have proved that more than enough, helping with the Cursed Vaults with the pranks."

Tonks winks at her. "This is all I need in my life."

As we enter the Courtyard, the conversations about the mysterious woman seem to buzz in my ears once more. The reason for it is more than clear. There is a tall easel right next to the fountain, made of a light, beautiful wood, holding a big canvas. Behind the easel, delicately holding a wooden paint palette in one hand and a long, thin brush in the other, is the beautiful stranger that wears a _hijab_.

Just like many before have described, she's truly beautiful. Not much taller than me, she seems to be twenty-something years old. Her skin is the colour of aspen and as I walk closer, I can see that she has caramel eyes framed by long and thick eyelashes. Her makeup is flawlessly done – a well-blended brown eyeshadow and a delicate black line along her lash line, complemented with a soft, glossy nude lipstick. Her clothes seem to be, in fact, made of the finest of silks. It seems soft and the colour is intensely black. The _hijab_ she wears cover all her hair, which must be dark, given the colour of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. The fabric seems soft and mystical, of the deepest blue shade, bearing many delicate stars.

"Who is she?" Rowan whispers at me.

As if she heard us, the woman turns her head at Rowan and flashes her the most beautiful smile, of perfect teeth and glistening eyes. Her face then returns to the canvas in front of her, which has many strokes of red and grey paint.

"Holy cow," Rowan says when we reach the castle's door. "That was… hypnotic."

"I know!" I say. "I don't think I've ever seen someone so… magical."

"I don't know what she's doing in this castle, but she will surely mesmerize a lot of people," she adds. "I just pray that she doesn't make Charlie stare for too long."

* * *

The mysterious painter doesn't join us for dinner at the Great Hall, but that isn't the most shocking happening. The fact that the centre seat is again occupied by a much chuffed Dumbledore is what startles me. He's wearing long, lavender robes, and his pointy hat is of a mustard colour. Professor McGonagall, next to him, seems to be a bit vexed about their conversation, and talks without taking her eyes of her plate.

I sit between Rowan and Tal, biting my lip nervously. Talbott instantly holds my hand and entwines our fingers, placing a kiss on my knuckles. He flashes me an understanding little smile and dinner proceeds as usual, with me trying to ignore Dumbledore's presence in the room.

I wait until we are back in the common room to start passive-aggressively breathing, feeling anger taking control of me again. I crash on the couch in front of the fireplace and cross my arms, watching as Tulip and Rowan sit on the rug while Talbott finds a place by my feet, on the other end of the couch.

"He returns as if it's no big deal," I mumble. "Not a shadow of an explanation… Beatrice is still trapped inside that portrait and he seems to feel zero preoccupation."

The girls look at me with concern and Tal places her hand on my ankle.

"He's not worried because he knows you 'll solve this, Athie," Rowan says. "I told you that it wouldn't surprise me if you found answers in these punishments he creates for you."

"Dumbledore follows the beat of his own drums," Tulip adds. "Until the Cursed Vaults are no longer a threat, he'll continue to act like you are just a puppet."

I bite my lip. "This is unfair. My brother is still missing. Penny's sister is missing. How long until there's no one in this castle left to fight?"

"We will find an end to this curse, Athie," Rowan says. "We always do."

I look at her and sigh. "Look at me. A curse to break and I'm here whining. This is not the moment to behave like this."

I get up and head to the window, planting my hands on the sill. The night sky greets me with clouds and no stars. Not entirely dull, but it's extremely uninspiring. Inside of me I find the strength to continue with my task. I can't be petty and whiny and complain over and over again about Dumbledore's unfairness. I must give him the other face. A face that he will remembers when all of this is over and I have my brother by my side again.

I look back at Rowan, Tulip and Tal. They are staring at me with a mixture of concern and curiousness.

"Dumbledore must have a plan beneath it all. It annoys me that he sees us as pawns, but I'll show him we're not," I say firmly.

"Of course we're not," Rowan says. "We're Ice Queens, remember? And in chess, what does the Queen does?"

A strange fire seems to suddenly fill my heart. I look through the window, feeling my soul burn in a thousand colours of flames. A subtle smile appears in my lips. "A Queen does whatever the fuck she wants."

* * *

The dawn is quiet when I stroll lonelily to the kitchens to deal with detention. The air is fresh and it smells like rain, but the fire inside my heart still burns strong. Rowan's words fill my mind with hope and purpose. I feel more vigorous and determined than before, which is weird when I remember my whining the night before.

I quick look through the window tells me that the day will be beautiful. There are no clouds on the sky anymore; just a lovely dawn in all shades of pink. My intestines twirl when I spot the familiar easel and silky dress by the Courtyard, like a spectrum in the first light of day. The mysterious woman looks like she's part of a bigger painting. A painting of stones, water and sunrise.

I look at my watch. I have fifteen minutes until I need to present myself to Pitts. If a Queen does what she wants, then nothing will prevent me from questioning the enigmatic painter.

I deviate my path a little bit, walking swiftly until the Courtyard's entrance. The woman doesn't seem to notice my presence. She's concentrated, making arabesques of sparks with the wand in front of the now finished painting.

The strokes of red and grey became a bridge surrounded by roses. It's so perfect and realistic that it feels like looking through a window. The sparks stop when she turns to look at me, smiling as beautifully as she smiled at Rowan.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," I say, politely.

"It's okay," she says and her accent is soft and delicate like her. "Isn't it a bit too early for you to be awake?"

"I have detention to attend," I tell her. "But seeing you painting at dawn called my attention."

She smiles again. "What is your name, dear?"

I bite my lip. "Athena."

"It's a beautiful name," she says. "I have painted the goddess before. I quite enjoy exploring the art in every single culture. I'm Badeea Ali, by the way."

Her voice is calm like a lake and when her eyes return to the painting, they seem to sparkle.

"May I ask what kind of magic you are doing?" I ask.

"Enchantments to make sure my painting comes to life like it's supposed to," she says, gently. "Years of experience still don't make this process less complicated."

"What are you painting?"

"This lovely bridge that I saw on my way to this school," she tells me. "I'm taking a break from studying Beatrice Haywood's painting."

"That's why you're here?" I ask. "To take her out of the painting?"

She nods. "I'm going to try. Fascinating thing, this curse. Can you imagine being trapped in an imaginary environment? You'd begin to question what was truly real, and who was really in control of your thoughts and actions."

I look away, my thoughts suddenly swept all the way to the Grand Staircase. "I'm not sure if I find it fascinating."

She giggles. "I adore magical art. I'm painting a portrait of Beatrice to try and rescue her. This bridge here is just… like a palate cleanser."

"Sounds like a paradox," I say. "Painting a portrait of a girl inside another portrait. Is it working?"

"Not yet, but I still have buckets of paint and pages of spells to try."

I look at my watch. "Ms. Ali, do you think you could explain to me how the portraits work? When you're not busy painting Bea, of course."

She looks at me and smiles. "Of course. There's nothing I enjoy more than talking about art. Oh, and you can call me Badeea."

"Thank you… Badeea."

"Thank you for the lovely conversation, Athena."

I'm not quite sure if I'd call our conversation lovely, but I don't question her. I rapidly walk back to my pathway towards the kitchen, eager to know more about the mysterious Badeea Ali and the magical portraits. Maybe, if I learn enough, I'll be able to help free Beatrice.

Something inside of me reminds me of Rowan's words. That Dumbledore places these enigmas in front of me, for me to figure them out by myself. What if he brought this beautiful stranger to the castle in order to make me learn more about magical portraits and how to rescue Beatrice and put an end to the curse?

Questions, questions…

* * *

* Paint A New World, by Helloween.


	94. Year 5: Chapter 10 - A Cake and a New Qu

**N/A:** Hi, everyone! Thank you for the sweets reviews! I'm so happy you guys are enjoying the story. I'll be posting every Monday from now on. I'm also writing another story, for the game The Arcana, which I'm loving. But let's head to today's chapter, shall we? Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.

* * *

 **Chapter Ten - A Cake and a New Quest**

 _What is this? What is this that made us wonder who we are?_

 _Couldn't face what we had done and so we covered up the scars_

 _And now we hope, but our hope is buried underneath at night_

 _Can't escape and the silence hold us captive with this lie*_

* * *

I wake up with Edgar sleeping on my pillow, right next to my face. His fur is warm and smells like comfort, which makes it even harder to get up and face another Monday. He seems to enjoy Hogwarts even more than our house back in Brighton, but it's understandable. Though the house is comfortable and secure, Hogwarts is a whole new world, full of possibilities and places to explore.

Though it doesn't feel good to start my day with detention, my feelings of distress vanish as soon as I enter the choir room. Professor Flitwick is particularly excited about our performance for Halloween, especially after I showed him a version of Bark to the Moon, by Ozzy Osbourne, that could work for our presentation.

"It is a very pertinent song, Miss Lockhart," he said to me. "Excellent for a Halloween party."

Singing a Muggle song with my choir mates is interesting, because the song is new for the majority of them. Not that Ozzy Osbourne himself looks very Mugglish. In fact, he looks like someone who would be fit for The Weird Sisters.

" _Howling in shadows… Having a lunar spell… He finds his heaven… Spewing from the mouth of hell…_ " my colleagues follow me as we try to arrange a composition of spooky voices and melodic ones that could be suited for a funeral march.

An hour later, I leave the choir room feeling oddly energized. Not enough, though, to face Rakepick and her many unorthodox lessons. Not that I am a traditional girl of any sort; it's just that Rakepick is just… well, she's a creep.

Rowan is waiting for me by the classroom door, looking severely annoyed. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest and her backpack is left on the floor, next to her feet.

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

She releases a long sigh. "Rakepick is going to teach us about pixies today."

"And that is an issue because…"

"Because she brought a bunch of dead ones to show us," she says, solemn.

I frown, feeling my body get rigid. We find our place in the back of the classroom, right behind Tulip and James. In front of the chalkboard, lying on Rakepick's table, are no less than ten different pixies, all immobile. I bite my lip, because I know that they're not still because of a curse. It's not just because Rowan told me that they're dead; the stench of death and be smelled in the air.

Not even Liz seems to be comfortable sitting in the same room of a bunch of dead pixies. She's biting the back of her pencil with an overall vexed expression that I have never seen before. Behind it all, she even looks a little sad.

"'Morning, class," Rakepick says, descending the little curved staircase located in the right corner of the room, right next to the chalkboard. Her hair seems to be even more auburn and there's a strange spark in her eyes. "As you probably noticed, today's lesson is about pixies."

She walks to her table and picks one of the little dead bodies, which is surprisingly flexible. She holds it by its two tiny hands and shows it to us, making the little pixie's head hang loose in front of its chest. It's bizarre, to say the very least.

"This is a spell called _Exorabilis_ ," she tells us. "Who can tell me what it does?"

Ismelda raises her hand. "It's meant to allow a cadaver to maintain its flexibility and ignore the usual _rigor mortis_."

" _Are her parents morticians or something like that?_ " Rowan whispers to me and I shrug.

"Correct, Miss Murk," Rakepick says. "Five points to Slytherin. However, today's lesson isn't about this extremely useful spell."

" _Useful if you're into necrophilia_ ," Rowan adds.

"Which one of you is savant enough to correctly identify these ten species of pixies?" Rakepick asks.

In the desk next to ours, I can see Liz moving uncomfortably. I'm sure that she knows the answer, but her dismayed expression and the fact that she's staring at the beautiful pixie illustration on her book makes it obvious that she doesn't want to engage in the lesson.

"No one?" Rakepick provokes. "Well, that is disappointing."

She then proceeds to explain about the ten different species she brought for us; about the differences between Cornish and Canadian pixies, even though they're both electric blue, and what different poisons can be used to kill them.

"They are feisty little beasts," she says. "In the 17th century, a swarm of pixies abducted the witch Dymphna Furmage. Such event led to a lifelong of trauma, which drove her make a request to the Ministry to eradicate the pixies. Her request was denied and she suffered a heart attack due to stress in 1692."

"Well, she saw it coming," I hear Liz say, her voice loud and clear.

"What was that, Miss Tuttle?" Rakepick says, bearing a mischievous smirk.

"I said that Dymphna Furmage had her poetic justice doom," Liz says. "What you are telling us is just a fraction of the whole story. She taunted the swarm because she hated magical beasts. She was deceiving and said she was abducted out of nowhere, but a witness said that she did, in fact, provoked the pixies. She died because she deserved to, for trying to put an end to magnificent creatures."

"Splendid speech, Miss-"

"In addition to that, pixies are not simply mischievous beasts. They are important parts of the food chain and a lot of them are herbivorous, feeding on nectar and helping pollinize many magical plants," Liz continues, ignoring Rakepick. "If what you're doing here is try to show an extremely biased point of view, then well done, Professor. This is how you raise other Dymphna Furmages."

I look at Rakepick, whose lips are pressed together, creating a thin line across her face. It is clear that she knew she was being provocative, but I reckon she didn't knew she'd awaken a side of Liz what no one knew existed. Her eyes move to the dead pixies atop her table and with a flick of her wand, they disappear. She returns her eyes to the classroom, disgusted.

"Ten points from Slytherin," she kisses. "Class dismissed."

Liz is the first one to leave the room. There's a burning fire in her eyes and her hands are closed into fists. Barnaby follows her and they disappear in the next corridor. Outside the classroom, Rowan flashes me a devilish smile.

"That was fun," she says.

No need to say that we talk and laugh about it all the way to Charms, and Liz's speech is the main topic during lunch. After that, I can see that the news arrived in Professor Snape's classroom, for he awards twenty points for Liz because of a series of correct answers. I smile at her. Though she seems sweet and overall harmless, now I can see that she's fierce. Rakepick's vexed expression accompanied me to another Quidditch practice, which makes it even more exciting to fly freely across the skies.

* * *

"You are doing great, Blair," I say after the practice, when I'm fixing my tie. "It almost makes me not want to play in November. You'd surely bring victory to Ravenclaw."

She blushes a little. "Well, I don't know about that… I don't want anything to happen to you, but I confess that I love to play."

"Well, who knows?" I say. "I'm always engaging in dangerous tasks… Perhaps this will be your year."

She smiles. "Thanks, Captain."

I'm left alone after she leaves. I brush my hair, still considering to cut it, and proceed to apply some lip gloss. Before I'm even able to put the applicator back in the bottle, I see Mr. Filch's figure arising from behind me.

"You filthy little thief," he hisses as I turn around, resting my back against the mirror.

"Mr. Filch," I say, trying not to lose my pose.

"I know you've been stealing things from my office," he continues. "Confiscated magical artefacts… maps… runes… You probably think that you're above this castle's rules."

"No, I-"

"You kids have no respect for me whatsoever," he spits. "You see me as the caretaker you can walk over, but I'm going to show you that you cannot play games with me. I'll have you hanging by your ankles before you're able to finish your kitchen detention."

That being said, he turns on his heels and leaves, stepping loudly. I'm left with a racing heart and thousands of thoughts crowing my mind. He never said what I stole from him, but he did mention the word map. My mind transports me all the way back to Madam Rosmerta's chambers, where Rakepick inquired her about my brother and some map.

I swallow hard, wondering how everything could be connected. There's so much yet to uncover and so many loose strings in this huge and messed up ball of year that is the Cursed Vaults. If there's a map that Rakepick wants desperately enough to threaten people, it seems like a map I should be looking for too.

I return to the castle, chewing the inside of my cheeks. There are so many thoughts inside my head that is hard to process everything. My hands find their way into my pockets as I walk over the stone trails.

When I reach the Courtyard, Badeea Ali is there. The canvas on the easel is different; it's square and smaller. As I approach, I see that she's painting a horse.

"Good afternoon, Athena," she says in her melodic voice. "How are you today?"

I shrug. "Just a little tired. I had Quidditch practice today."

"Oh, I've never shown aptitude for physical activities," she says. "Arts, however, have always been a part of me."

I smile, approaching her. The painting she's so focused on is flawless. I can almost count the hairs in the horse's tail and the tiny flowers she painted across the grass are delicate and fragile.

"Any portrait can become a magical one?" I ask her.

"Oh, yes," she tells me. "Landscape… animals… but people look for me mostly for my abilities in painting people."

"I thought that these paintings across the castle… were just the essence of those people."

"Yes and no," she says. "When someone dies, they're dead. Unless they become ghosts, of course. But a painting… well, it has no soul. That's why the artist's technique is so important. It's necessary to capture more than just appearance. Enchantments let the portrait imitate its subject and use its favourite phrases."

"The same thing applies for the previous Headmasters' portraits?" I ask her.

"Oh, they're painted before they die, you see. The Headmaster then spends a lot of time teaching the portrait how to behave like them," she explains. "Curious, isn't it?"

I stare at the painting and nod.

She dips the brush in a mixture of browns and greys and adds thin strokes to the horse's mane. Her movements are precise, yet delicate. Her hands move like water; flowy and graceful. When she's satisfied with her work, she takes a step back to analyse it.

"It's perfect," I say.

"Not yet," she tells me. "I'm a perfectionist, Athena. It takes a while for me to become satisfied with a painting."

I nod. "Thank you for teaching me about magical portraits."

She smiles. "Can I give you an advice?"

"Sure."

"Whenever you're feeling stuck, try an inventive approach. Do things you would normally never think of doing. I've done some of my best works like that."

I blink a few times, trying to process her words. A smile arises on my lips when a strange idea pops inside my head. I bite my lip, feeling wages of anxiousness run thought my body. Not the kind of anxiety that make you want to throw up; it's the kind that makes you want to see what's about to happen.

"Thank you, Badeea. Thank you so, so much."

* * *

Detention is not something I'd usually be excited for. In fact, I struggle with it every day, having to leave my warm bed earlier than everyone else. This time, I see it with different eyes. There's a wide range of possibilities that I hadn't seen before. Of course, everything that I have considered may end up badly and it will all just be an immense waste of my time, but I feel like it's worth the shot.

I rush to the kitchens, hearing only the sound of my shoes tapping against the floor. The dawn is fresh and beautiful, almost like a prelude to my plans. I tickle the pear excitedly and open a huge smile when I see Pitts.

"Now what's wrong with you today?" he asks me, vexed.

"Good morning, Pitts," I say. "I was wondering if I could bake a cake today. I want to give it as a present."

"Seems like a lousy present."

"You say that because you haven't tried my chocolate cake with butterscotch frosting," I say, smiling.

He squints at me, making his round, lumpy head look even lumpier. He's so incredibly different from Holly or even Cady, but I can understand why he needs to be so strict. Holly doesn't need to coordinate dozens of elves; she now has the freedom to come and go, but Pitts doesn't. He needs to be harsh not only to do his job, but also to survive.

"You want to bake a cake to someone?" he asks. "Well, then. Make it five more if you're going to waste my time with such nonsense. One for each table. I think it makes it fair enough."

I swallow hard. "Thank you."

I have to rush desperately to fill a huge bowl with enough batter to make six cakes. My hands move faster than never and I can't tell if Cady is annoyed at me for making her work harder or if she's amused for doing something different for a change. She helps me break eighteen eggs and sifts the flour for me. I also run over Jay in order to get the jar full of cocoa powder while rushing to whisk the frosting. I usually enjoy baking with patience, because a lot of things can go wrong when you bake in a hurry. However, I have just one hour to do everything and considering that the cakes need to bake for forty minutes, it leaves me with less than ten minutes to frost them all.

When the batter it ready – dark and smooth – I line six cake pans and pour the batter carefully. Cady helps me put them in the oven and, while we wait, I proceed to make some caramel while Cady washes some cherries.

Jay watches me with an amused smile. He's helping another elf make flawless towers of toast with fig jam on the side, but it doesn't prevent him from eyeing me as if I'm in a baking war.

Once the cakes are ready, I take them out of the oven. A sigh escapes my lips as I realize that I'll have to cut them and frost them while they're still hot. I bite my lip, thinking that the frosting will most likely melt. I look around, nervously, and spot Pitts monitoring another elf's job. I reach for my wand, visualizing a much softer, delicate spell.

" _Auravento_ ," I whisper, and a gentle breeze escapes the tip of my wand, surrounding the cakes in a subtle aura.

From my peripheral view, I can see that Cady is looking at me with wide eyes. She leaves my side, but I can hear that she's talking to Pitts.

"I think that I burned my hand in the cake pan," she tells him.

"What do you mean you think?" he shouts. "Either you burned it or you didn't. Don't make me lose my patience today."

I thank her mentally while I allow my spell to cool the cakes for a few more seconds. When I place my wand safely back in my pocket, the cakes are ready to be sliced. I cut then in half and add the filling and some sliced cherries. On top, I add the frosting and make a spider web design out of warm caramel. To finish, Cady helps me place some more cherries for decoration.

I let out a long, relieved sigh and look at her with a smile. "Thank you, Cady. I couldn't have done it without you."

She bows and proceeds to take the five extra cakes to the tables. Pitts walks to me with a serene expression.

"Impressive, human," he says. "Now leave."

I smile, still panting and somewhat sweaty, and get my cake. It smells deliciously sweet and though it was made in a hurry, I'm sure it tastes delicious. It's Holly's recipe, after all.

I proceed to leave the kitchen, but Jay stops me.

"Here," he says, handing me a napkin. "You have chocolate on your forehead."

I giggle, wiping a bizarre amount from my face. "Thanks."

"I hope that whoever gets this cake, is deserving of your hard work," he says.

I sigh. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

The sun is burning bright outside of the windows. It kisses my skin with his golden lips as I take my lonely walk to the ground floor. My heart races when I raise my hand and knock on the door near the castle's entrance. I curl my toes inside my shoes as I wait, feeling waves of nervousness rush through my body.

The door opens, revealing a much cranky Filch.

"What do you want?" he hisses. "Steal more artefacts?"

I take a deep breath before speaking. "No, sir. I simply wanted to bring you this cake. I thought you'd like it."

He frowns. "Do you think I'm a fool? Do you think I don't know that there's a Fanged Frisbee hidden inside this excuse of a cake?"

This time, I frown. "Why would I ever put a Fanged Frisbee inside a cake? No, this is a chocolate cake with butterscotch frosting and fresh cherries."

"You are really a deceiving twit," he spits. "I would never fall for such stupid trap."

I sigh, annoyed. "Mr. Filch, this cake is not a trap. There's nothing hidden inside it but dozens of delicious cherries. I know you have no reason whatsoever to believe me, but this cake is safe and pretty much scrumptious. If you find a hint of anything suspicious inside of it, you have my permission to hang me on the ceiling from my ankles."

He frowns harder, looking at me with his small greyish eyes. "Very well, then. Give it to me."

I pull the cake away from him. "Won't you be polite and invite a lady for cake?"

His lips twitch. I watch his eyes move from the cake to my face and to the cake one more time. He seems to be battling an internal fight, and I wait patiently by the door.

"Fine. Come on in."

He enters, leaving the door open, and I smile, victorious.

The first thing I notice is that his office has no windows. It smells like dust and humidity and the only illumination comes from a candlestick over a small wooden desk. There are only two chairs – one presumably being Filch's spot – and the other has a box of papers over it. There are archives covering the walls, all made of a dark wood and labelled with a hard to read handwriting. From the ceiling, many metal chains and manacles are pending, and spider webs make a spooky fractal design among them.

I swallow hard, bringing the cake to the table. Filch proceeds to remove the box from the extra chair and places it on the floor, on one corner. He opens enters a door between two tall archives and returns shortly after with two small plates, a knife and two forks. He places it on the table and hands me the knife.

"Just in case there's a Fanged Frisbee inside," he says.

I proceed to slice the cake. "I don't know why someone would even do that, but okay."

"Then you don't have any idea of what this castle's kids are capable of," he mumbles, looking a little resented.

I place the first slice on the place and hand it to him. The interior looks perfect; the cake is dark, soft and fragrant, and the cherries are beautifully visible in the middle of the light frosting. They are like rubies in the middle of the sand and the perfection of it makes me smile.

I cut another slice and put it on my plate. Filch rests on his chair and brings the slice to his nose. He sniffs it a few times before grabbing the fork and giving a try. I watch as his eyes change from annoyed and suspicious to lively and surprised. He looks at me with a totally different expression, and proceeds to eat the rest of the slice.

"I'll assume that you liked it," I say, simply.

He looks back to the cake, looking rather pensive, and then gets up and returns to the adjacent room. I continue to eat my slice in silence, until he returns a while later with a tea pot and two cups.

"Black tea?" he offers.

I nod. "Thank you."

He pours some tea in both cups and sits again. I watch him grab the knife and cut another slice – larger – and eat with blissfulness. A strange feeling fills me as I watch the man that I have learned to fear and that everyone thinks it's terrible and sadistic eat the cake that I baked, laying down all armour he previously had for the fear of someone wanting to prank him. My thoughts go to Tulip and Tonks, for I know that they are part of the vicious cycle of making Filch's life more miserable. Though he's not entirely free from guilt, I don't think he deserves to be treated like trash. Especially when Dumbledore makes him clean the castle without magic.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the cake," I say to him.

He looks at me. "Why did you bother baking it?"

I look at me hands. "Yesterday… you called me a thief. I don't know what you think I stole from you, but I wanted to say that I'd never do that."

"You steal that map and tries to buy me with cake," he sibilates. "Have you no shame?"

"No, because I didn't do anything," I say, firmly. "I do know, however, that Rakepick has been looking for a map. Did it ever occurred you that she might have stolen it?"

"Of course not," he says. "She came looking for it, that spiteful twit. She demanded for me to give it to her and I told her she was free to look through every single archive and that she would find no map. I don't know the value of that piece of trash, but if she wanted it so much then, well… I just couldn't hand it to her. Who the hell did she think she was, storming into my office and telling me what to do? I hid that excuse for a parchment away from her nosy hands until she was certain it wasn't here. But then… then someone found their way in and stole it!"

I clench my jaw at his story. "And you promptly presumed it was me."

"Can you blame me?" he asks. "Your brother was just as reckless. He had no respect for the rules and was always after forbidden artefacts. I lost count of how many times I made him clean this school's trophies."

"I'm not like that," I say, simply.

"What are you like, then?" he hisses.

I get up. "I'm the kind of girl that bakes a cake for a misunderstood man, in order to try to make things right. Thank you for the tea, Mr. Filch."

I don't stay to see his expression or to hear whatever he has to say. I leave, allowing the tension on my shoulders to slowly become the feeling of accomplishment. My heart feels lighter and I feel thankful for the sunshine as I walk by a window. In the distance, I can see Badeea Ali admiring the grounds' landscape. I smile at her silhouette, thankful for her advice.

I confess that after spending the early morning baking many cakes and then having breakfast with Mr. Filch didn't actually set the mood for a History of Magic lesson. I meet with Rowan by the classroom door, where many other students are gathered, probably delaying their entrance and the beginning of another unenthusiastic lecture.

"How was it, to share a meal with Filch?" she asks me as soon as she sees me.

"Enlightening," I tell her. "He does think I stole a map from him. Probably the same map Rakepick was looking for last year. The question that is still left unanswered, is who the hell stole the damn map."

Rowan looks up, biting her bottom lip. It's the main indicative that she's thinking. It's almost like she's trying to see her own brain in order to find the answers she's looking for. Her brown eyes return to me as she shakes her head gently.

"I wonder how much more information you could still get from Filch," she says. "You baked him one cake and he immediately spilled the tea."

"He did call Rakepick a spiteful twit."

She throws her head back, bursting into laughter. "Oh, Merlin. I'll definitely start to use this now. _Spiteful twit…_ Fits so many people. Rakepick… Merula… Ismelda… My cousin Salena…"

I giggle, but seriousness returns to me right after. "Rowan… do you think we are too… inconsiderate… when it comes to Filch?"

She frowns. "No. Honestly, such thing never crossed my mind."

"I mean… does he really deserve to be treated like he is?"

"Well, the guy is a total creep," she says. "Have you heard half the things he threatens to do with Tonks?"

I shrug. "It's not like she's free of guilt."

"I fail to see you point."

"Think about it, Row. We have no idea how long he's been working in this castle. We don't know how much abuse he's had to endure, both from students and professors."

She rests her hand on my shoulder. "You are remarkable, Athie. You see the good in everyone. Even in a psycho sadist like Filch."

"You make it sound like a bad thing," I say.

"It's not. It's actually a very commendable quality."

I sigh. "You're not entirely correct. I see no good in Rakepick."

She snickers. "That's because she is Satan."

Her warm palms find their way to my cheeks, where they rest delicately. She looks me in the eyes with the sweet Rowan-smile that I've learned to love. They say many things in their woody silence and, at the same time, feel like my personal harbour.

"Take these things off your head for now," she says. "Filch… the map… everything. Focus on Professor Binns lesson and we'll talk about it later."

I nod and smile softly. Her lips curl in a sweet smile as she reaches for her backpack and then grabs my hand, guiding me to the classroom.

* * *

* The Silence, by Arrows to Athens.


	95. Year 5: Chapter 11 - A Ghostly Mystery a

**Chapter Eleven - A Ghostly Mystery and a Gory Beginning**

 _But I wonder, where were you?_

 _When I was at my worst_

 _Down on my knees_

 _And you said you had my back*_

* * *

As soon as October starts, the bats start to descend. Enchanted bats, to be more precise. The professors spent the first day of the month – a chilly and quiet Saturday – decorating every inch of the castle. Rubeus could be seen carrying humongous pumpkins to the Great Hall, where Professor Sprout was armed to carve them. Professor Flitwick was excitedly adding pending spiders to every archway, which sang spooky songs whenever someone walked under them. His classroom was properly decorated too; there was even a different rug on the floor, bearing moving images of pumpkins laughing. Though Professor Snape wasn't much thrilled to engage in the festivities, he sympathized enough to add spooky warning signs around the dungeons. The one next to his classroom entrance said "Beware of the troll".

The Ozzy Osbourne song we are practicing in the Choir sounds better through the course of the days. Even the frogs seem excited to perform such spooky song and their croaks are deep and melodic, adding to the whole sinister atmosphere.

Dumbledore can be seen displaying his whole Halloween wardrobe. One day he is wearing bright orange robes and a purple hat and on the other he is flaunting neon green robes and a black hat adorned by many tarantulas. Professor McGonagall is a little more discrete, just adjusting her usual dark robes by wearing spooky jewellery like a spider necklace or pentagram earrings.

Even the Quidditch pitch is decorated accordingly. The towers across the bleachers bear orange and purple flags and there are some pumpkins over the lawn. I make use of them, by placing them strategically as obstacles and even enchant some of them to float around in order to make the practice harder.

"All right, witches," I say. "Today's practice shall be a little different. We are only a month away from the beginning of the season. Our first match against Hufflepuff is scheduled to November 19th. I want everyone strong and ready to kick those badgers' arses, okay? We lost the Cup to Gryffindor last year, but this won't happen again this year. I want you all running a few laps around the pitch, jumping over the pumpkins, okay? We need to be sharp and precise in order to win. NOW LET'S GO!"

It's immensely fun to see the astonishment in their faces as they process what I just said. One by one they begin to run, sometimes stumbling on the pumpkins. I laugh as I follow them, enjoying the feeling that comes with running and with the stunts I perform upon the huge orange fruits. Andre tries to mimic me, but his strong beater arms don't provide him with the back and leg flexibility for him to make a cartwheel over the pumpkins. Instead, he falls heavily on the ground. I watch him get up, dust his uniform and continue to run with a slightly embarrassed expression on his face.

Once we finish our warm up, we climb on our brooms to begin the practice. The balls are released and I smile as the Snitch flies around my head a few times, as if it is provoking me.

"The flying pumpkins will serve as the other team's players. This time you won't simply chase balls and perfect your pirouettes. You'll have to dodge the pumpkins as if they're our opponents," I say. "You have to be prepared for everything, that's why they're enchanted to make unpredictable movements, okay? Now let's get this party started!"

The pumpkins add both a Halloweenish spirit and a hint of difficulty to our practice. Blair seems to be agile enough to dodge the pumpkins while managing to find the Snitch not once, but four times. It fills my heart with joy to see the team playing beautifully even amongst the weird obstacles. Vicky is hit on the back by a small pumpkin just once, but it barely affects her balance. If anything, she looks almost amused.

When my watch marks ten after four, I wave my wand to make the pumpkins return to their initial places. We all make our ways to the lawn, where we stand in a large circle.

"You are doing amazing, guys," I tell them. "We will surely win this year. Now let's hit the showers and move on with our day. I'll see you all on Wednesday."

"Aye, Captain!" Andre shouts, excitedly, before following the guys to the boys' locker.

I take my broom to the broom closet and find my way to the shower right after. The feeling of warm water falling over my tired body is incredible and putting on my uniform right after makes me feel ready to face a few hours of intense study.

I grab my books and notes of the important O.W.L subjects and head straight to the library, where I find Rowan sitting in a table near a window. She has a frown upon her face and keeps pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Her hair is tied in a ponytail and she looks extremely professional, dipping the quill in the ink and writing in her flawless penmanship. Suited for the role of Prefect, to say the very least. She spots me walking towards her and her lips curl in a smile. I find a place in front of her and proceed to organize my notes.

There's an arrow going from one of my writings towards to corner of the page, reminding me to check Ezedore Aforn's book on pixies. I head to the corridor where the magical creatures' books are placed and look for the book under the letter A.

"Adyrin… Aegon… Affea… Aforn," I read, withdrawing Ezedore's thin book from the shelf.

As I'm about to open it to check the summary, I feel someone's hand resting heavily on my shoulder.

I turn around abruptly, finding the cranky figure of Mr. Filch staring at me. I swallow hard, but the fact that he doesn't seem angry makes me ease the tension a little bit.

"Mr. Filch," I say. "Is there something wrong?"

He clenches his jaw. "It seems that I've been wrong about you. Someone broke into my office again, making a mess just like the other time. Only this time, I got to see the filthy vandal before he escaped."

I raise my brows. "Really? Did you manage to catch him? Did you recover the stolen objects?"

He looks away, annoyed. "Not really. The creature is as slimy as the Giant Squid. And the Headmaster doesn't do a thing to purge him from this castle."

"Well," I say. "At least you know who the guilty it."

"That is exactly what I am here for," he says, taciturn.

"To… apologize for accusing me of theft?" I try.

He looks away again and produces a deep, contradicted noise. "I know you have a way with the occult. I want you to recover these stolen items, given that the Headmaster doesn't care about it."

I cross my arms. "And why do you care?"

"Because such objects, if in the wrong hands, are the beginning for chaos. I need them back where they belong. Confiscated."

I squint my eyes. "Very well, then. But I have a few questions first. What is this map everyone is so obsessed about?"

He snorts. "Just an obnoxious creation from a group of miscreants. They used to call themselves Marauders. A ridiculous name, if you want my opinion."

"Uh-huh," I say. "And why is this map so damn important?"

"Apparently it's filled with dark magic," he says. "It shows doors to other worlds and the entrances of hell."

"I don't think that's even possible."

He grumbles. "Perhaps it's not _that_ dark. I guess it's a map of the castle. Something like that."

"Uh-huh," I repeat. "Well, Mr. Filch, it's your lucky day. I'll find your thief and recover the objects."

"Perfect."

"With one condition."

He rolls his eyes. "What do you want?"

I look him firmly in the eyes. "The map. I want to have it for as long as it is useful. When I graduate, I'll return it to your office, where it belongs."

"That's is out of question!" he grumbles.

"SILENCE!" we hear Madam Pince shout from her desk, a few corridors away.

I clench my jaw, staring at him with defiance. "Then there's no deal for you. If you'll excuse me, I have O. to study for."

"All right, all right!" he says, irritated. "You can have the damn map. But the runes… the books… the talismans… I want them all back in those archives. Am I clear?"

I smirk, fulfilled. "Crystalline."

He looks away. " _I can't believe I'm doing deals with students… What the hell is wrong with me? There must be this curse that is making my head work improperly…"_ he mumbles, annoyed.

"You didn't mention who stole the objects from your office," I say.

"I thought it was obvious," he says. "No other creature could be able of such indecency like that damn poltergeist."

"Peeves? What would he even do with magical artefacts?"

"I don't even want to know that," he spits. "Just recover the objects and stop asking me questions."

He turns around and leaves, leaving me alone with Ezedore's book and a new quest. Dealing with Peeves doesn't seem to concern me as it usually would. The fact that the Marauder's Map, an objects that seems of major importance to Rakepick, is just around the corner, seems to bring confidence to my soul. I return to the chair in front of Rowan, who seems to be concentrated calculating some predictions for her Arithmancy homework.

I find it easier to focus on my studies now that the map is clean in the horizon. Given that Halloween is one of Peeves' favourite holidays – apart from April's Fools -, October will be the perfect month to find him engaging in all kinds of pranks around the school. And, perhaps, this is another time I'll have to count with Tonks and Tulip's expertise.

* * *

" _Melofors!"_ Tonks shouts from behind one of the greenhouses, aiming her wand at a first-year Slytherin that's walking by.

The orange spell hits the head of the little boy, which immediately transforms into a pumpkin. The eyes and mouth carved on it denote the complete panic in his heart. He takes his hands to his head and proceeds to run and scream when he feels the smooth surface of the giant pumpkin that now is his head.

"Tonks, I'm not your Prefect, but we all have to agree that this is extremely wrong," Rowan says, crossing her arms as Tonks and Tulip turn abruptly to face us.

"C'mon!" Tulip says. "It's fun!"

"It's not fun," Rowan says. "And it's a poor excuse for a spell. That boy could be traumatized for life!"

"I hope it prevents him from becoming an evil wizard, then," Tonks says.

"Not all Slytherins are evil and you know that," I say. "Look at Liz and Barnaby. They couldn't hurt a doxy!"

Tonks shrugs. "It's Friday, girls. Let us have some fun before we die of boredom."

Rowan rolls her eyes. "This is not why we're even here."

"Yes," I say. "We kinda need your help."

Tulip crosses her arms. "Really? What for?"

"We need you to summon Peeves," I say.

"Same question," she says. "What for?"

I cross my arms too. "We need him in order to retrieve an artefact."

Tulip and Tonks exchange stares and both their lips curl in mischievous smirks, which make me feel extremely uneasy.

"Fine, then," Tulip says. "With one condition."

"This life seems full of conditions," Rowan says, vexed. "What do you want?"

Tonks smiles. "We'll summon Peeves and get your artefact… if you walk around with pumpkin heads today."

" _What?_ " Rowan shrieks. "What's the necessity of it?"

They shrug.

"It's fun," Tonks says.

"Not the entire day," Tulip adds. "Just until bedtime."

"This means we'll have to eat dinner with pumpkin heads," I say.

Rowan pokes me with her elbow. "At least we don't have any more classes today. Dinner won't be as embarrassing as showing up at Potions class with pumpkin heads."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. Cast the damn jinx and summon Peeves for us."

They smile. Tulip aims her wand at Rowan, while Tonks aims hers at me. I sigh as they shriek in excitement, casting the spells towards us. Once the orange smoke dissipates, I don't feel anything different. Just when Rowan looks at me and proceeds to knock on my head is that I'm aware that we both have large and bright orange pumpkin heads.

"Remarkable," Rowan says to the hollow sound that is produced every time she knocks. "Can you feel this?"

"Of course I can!" I push her hand away. "You're knocking on my head!"

"I feel so ridiculous," she says. "Check out the size of this thing! At least it's relatively light, or we wouldn't be able to walk!"

I turn to Tonks and Tulip, who are laughing out loud with their hands pressed on their stomachs. I roll my eyes again, though I'm not sure if the hollow, black eyes carved on my enchanted pumpkin head can show all my annoyance.

"You had your fun now," I say. "Now, please, summon Peeves so we can move on with our lives."

"Your pumpkin lives, you mean," Tulip says, chortling.

"Oh, Athena, you're so orange today!" Tonks adds, joining the laughter.

Even Rowan, standing next to me, lets out a giggle. I punch her arm and she smiles at me. Her Jack-O'-Lantern smile is a little creepy, but not as creepy as some of the pumpkins decorating the school grounds.

Tulip opens her backpack, grabbing a small flask a reddish potion. She removes the cork and takes a long, satisfied gulp.

"Do you randomly drink potions like this?" Rowan asks.

"It's a Fire-Breathing Potion," Tonks explains. "We found out that Peeves is a true pyromaniac poltergeist. This will make him come our way in a second."

Tulip lets out a burp, which produces a bit of smoke. She smiles, excited, before breathing a long line of flames towards the sky. The fire is bright red and warm and Rowan and I take a step back before we become a pair of roasted pumpkins.

"That was… discrete," Rowan says.

"You want Peeves, don't you?" Tulip says.

A loud snap startles us as a whimsical figure pops right above our heads. Rowan and I almost jump out of our skins as the eccentric poltergeist stares at us with a huge, devilish smile.

"You're the most boring dragon I've ever seen," he says, snickering maliciously.

I swallow hard. "We need your help, Peeves."

"With burning, exploding or screaming?" he asks, turning upside down, so his smile looks like an immense frown.

I clench my jaw. "With finding the Marauder's Map."

"Why would I give a map to you two loopy-loos?" he asks. "Or should I say… two loony pumpkins?"

"We need the map to save the school from this awful portrait curse," I say."

He scratches his chin, pensive. "Hmm… saving the castle does give me more chances to ruin it…"

I look at Rowan, whose pumpkin head shows that she's just as annoyed as I am.

"What does the map look like?" Peeves asks.

"How should I know?" I ask. "You were the one who stole it from Filch's office."

Peeves laughs. "Yeah, I remember that. I've took a lot of things off of ol' Filchy."

"I'm sure you did," I say. "You're the Prank Master of this castle."

Peeves' smile broadens. "Tell me something new. Oh, yes. I just remembered where I put the map!"

I look at him, anxious. "Where?"

He blinks at me. "My friend told me not to tell you."

Rowan rolls her eyes as he laughs hysterically.

"And who is your friend?" she inquires.

He looks at her, serious. "Not you."

"C'mon, Peeves! This is important!" I say.

"Good luck, schmuck! He hates Jacob Lockhart even more than he hates potions! He'll never let you have the map, young lunatic Lockhart!"

With another loud snap, he disappears.

"GOD DAMMIT!" Rowan shouts, vexed. "WHAT A HUGE WASTE OF TIME!"

"No, Row," I say, resting my hands on her shoulders. "It's a riddle. He gave us clues on how to find this person. Someone that hates my brother and potions."

She frowns. "Are you going to ask Snape? Do you really think he'll let you have the map after you retrieve it?"

"I won't tell him about the map," I say. "But if we want to find it, we need Professor Snape's help."

"Don't you think a lot of students hate the subject he teaches?" she asks. "You're one of the only ones who actually has fun at his classes."

I smile. "Someone who hates potions with such passion is probably someone he'd remember."

"I don't know. Sounds like half the castle to me."

"I'll talk to him tomorrow… after we get rid of these pumpkin heads."

* * *

The dawn brings us a heavy rain, including a howling wind and scandalous thunders. Rowan disappears with Charlie somewhere in the humid, rain-smelling castle, whereas Tulip and Tonks find their way into the mud fight that is developing in the school grounds. Some students take the day to catch up on their homework, while some find vacant spots in the long tables in the Great Hall to play Wizard's Chess or read some tarot cards.

After a long morning of baking pies, all I want to do is lounge on the sofa in front of the fireplace and read Anne Rice's The Mummy, which I brought school and didn't have the chance to read yet.

Talbott, however, has other plans.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask him as he guides me corridor after corridor, taking me through the Divination corridor until we reach a distant part of the tower.

"You'll see," he says.

When we walk past the tapestry of a maritime landscape, bearing sparkling waters and a ship on the horizon, Talbott reaches out and runs his fingertips along the line of the horizon. The water seems to move, glistening under the sunshine. Talbott looks at me with a mischievous smile and pulls the tapestry aside. Right behind it, there's a staircase.

"C'mon," he says, holding my hand gently.

I follow him upstairs; it's a narrow passage and it smells like moss and rain. I climb I don't know how many steps, but when Talbott finally stops, I'm panting. There's a wooden door ahead of us and he opens it carefully. The sound of the rain fills my ears as he takes a step aside and allows me to see what's on the other side of the door.

My jaw drops. We're standing on, what seems to be, a tiny balcony. However, it has no guardrail. I let out a gasp and wrap my arms around Talbott's waist. Our feet are perhaps a meter distant of an insane free fall and the vision of the whole castle engulfed by the storm beneath us is enough to set my heart to a race.

Nevertheless, it's understandable why Talbott wanted to bring me here. The view is breath-taking. We can see the lightnings striking the forest, illuminating the sky in a blinding gleam. I feel Talbott's arms closing around me – protective and warm – and his nose slightly touching my temple.

"Did you like it?" he asks me in a low-toned voice.

I turn my face to look at him. His shiny rubies greet me with a scarlet intensity, making my cheeks burn and my heart almost stop.

"Like it?" I say with a snicker.

He laughs and it's the most beautiful sound in the world. His eyes linger on my lips, making me aware of the heat burning in my cheeks and the warmth of his body against mine. Once more, he comes closer, resting his forehead in mine.

"And the sunlight clasps the Earth… and the moonbeams kiss the sea…" he whispers under the rain. "What is all this sweet work worth if thou kiss not me?"

A thunder rumbles in the distance just as my heart melts and blends with the raindrops. Talbott is unbelievably marvellous and, without a warning of any sort, seems to have stolen the very rest of my heart that I still had to myself.

Just like that, I am all his.

* * *

I can't hear the rain in the dungeons. As soon as I climb down the stone steps, I am greeted by silence. There's no one there, especially considering that it's a Saturday afternoon and, well, people have better things to do than inquire their Potions Master about someone they don't know.

The classroom door is closed and I open it gently. Inside, there is no one. I pull the door carefully and step inside, looking for Professor Snape. As I make my way to the front of the classroom, his office door opens and he leaves the room, carrying a box of empty flasks. His obsidian eyes look at me with surprise as he puts the box over his desk.

"Is everything okay?" he asks me.

I get closer. "Professor, I need to talk to you about something."

He lifts his brows. "Have you found proof that Patricia Rakepick is a scheming malefactor who's willing to destroy us all for her personal gain?"

I smile, amused. "No, sir."

He mumbles, disappointed. "Have a seat, Miss Lockhart."

I sit in the chair across from his desk and cross my ankles, nervously. I'm not sure how I'm going to discuss the person that hates Jacob without talking about the Marauder's Map, but I'll have to do my best. I watch him sit on his chair and begins sorting some flasks.

"What is it, Miss Lockhart?"

I take a deep breath. "Professor, you were my brother's teacher too, correct? For… three… four years?"

He doesn't look at me. "Something like that."

"Do you recall him having any enemies?" I ask. "Or just… someone who passionately disliked him?"

"Hmm… No. Not really. Before the Cursed Vaults, he was adored by most teachers and even had a few close friends," he says, grabbing some dusty flasks and starting to clean them with a cloth.

I cross my arms. "And who were these close friends of him? Do you remember their names?"

He nods. "I guess one of them was… Olivia… something. She was expelled too. And there was this kid, Duncan Ashe. He was a Slytherin, but excessively reckless. He found a way to befriend Peeves and every day there was a new havoc wreaking through this castle."

I look away and sigh. "Perhaps I could write them. Ask them if there was someone who hated my brother."

"Perhaps," he says, getting up to get another box, this one empty, and proceeding to put all the flasks in this other box. "Or you could just ask Mr. Ashe."

I look at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"He died the year your brother was expelled," he says. "His ghost is still around… somewhere."

"Uh-huh," I say, scratching my chin. "Does he… haunts any specific place? Like Moaning Myrtle or something?"

"I have no idea," he says. "The others ghosts might know."

I push the chair away and get up. "Thank you, Professor. That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Wait," he says, firmly, finally looking at me. "Why are you looking for Duncan Ashe?"

I shrug. "I wasn't. I just wanted to know more about my brother. That's all."

He squints.

"Thank you, sir!" I say, proceeding to leave the classroom before he has the chance to read my mind.

I hop back to the hallway, where Talbott is waiting for me with his lips still a bit red after our romantic snogs. I still can't overcome how handsome he looks in his white sweater, so the first thing I do is wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. I can feel him smiling beneath my lips.

"I'll be bold and assume you found what you were looking for," he says, his lips still touching mine.

I smile. "All that's left to do is interrogate some ghosts."

He distances his head to look at me with curiosity. "Ghosts?"

"Apparently my brother had a friend who died," I tell him. "Duncan Ashe."

"What house was he in?" he asks.

"Slytherin."

"You could ask the Bloody Baron," he suggests.

"Yeah, right," I say. "Like I'd ever get near that… that… bloody ghost. He gives me the creeps."

"He gives everyone the creeps," he adds. "Maybe Barnaby or Liz could talk to him for you."

I bite my lip. "Yeah, maybe. That's a good idea, actually."

He smirks. "Maybe you should reward me with a kiss, then."

I smile, devilish. "I'm not sure if you deserve it."

"I'll have to steal one, then," he says, placing his warm hand on my neck and gluing his lips to mine.

* * *

I barely see Barnaby during the meals on the weekend and, according to Rubeus, Liz spent it drinking tea and talking to Professor Kettleburn. I decide to wait until Monday, in our Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, to talk to them. So, I cease the weekend to kiss Talbott as much as I can, while trying to study in between. Rowan and Charlie seem to do the same, because we can spot them walking through the castle while exchanging mischievous stares and giggling.

On Monday, I'm feeling refreshed and ready to face another week. According to the schedule, Rakepick is supposed to teach us about a spell called _Deprimo._ According to the book, it blasts holes on walls and floors and can even tear apart stone. I look around, wondering if she'll make us crack the classroom like an egg, but a knock on the window makes us realize that she has other plans.

She's on her broom, on the outside of the tower, bearing a smirk on her red lips. "Our lesson will be on the Training Grounds today. Hurry up!"

I look at Rowan, whose excitement from the weekend seems to have vanished.

"I miss Professor Avalon," she tells me.

We make out way to the Training Grounds, which makes us waste around ten minutes of class. Not that we're complaining. Ten minutes away from Rakepick is like an eternity in paradise. Rakepick doesn't know, but she gave me the perfect opportunity to talk to Barnaby and Liz without her annoying presence.

"Guys," I start. "I need to find a ghost that might have information about my brother and the Vaults."

They look at me, surprised.

"A ghost?" Liz says. "How interesting!"

"Yeah, it's a boy called Duncan Ashe," I tell them. "Do you know him?"

Liz looks at Barnaby with a frown. "No, I don't think so."

"Talbott said that the Bloody Baron might know where I can find him," I say and they immediately freeze in place.

"The… the Bloody Baron?" Liz stutters.

"What's the matter?" Rowan asks.

"Have you met him?" Barnaby says. "He's like… a horror story of his own."

"Even Ismelda is afraid of him," Liz adds.

"Yeah. The only one who has the guts to talk to him is Merula," Barnaby says, to my complete dismay. "What?"

I sigh. "Damn. I can't believe I'll need Merula for this."

He shrugs. "Well, you're supposed to be on the same team, right? Didn't Rakepick convoked the two of you to help her find the Vaults?"

I look at him, pensive. "You know what? You're bloody right. You're a genius, Barnaby!"

"Well, I try…"

"All right, let's go to class before Rakepick casts _Deprimo_ at our heads," Rowan says, pulling me by my hand.

"I'd love to see her try," Liz says, giggling mischievously right after.

We are one of the last students to arrive to the Training Grounds. When we get there, we are greeted by a strange construction: looks like a small version of a European castle, but without all the details. It has many towers and a bridge and thick walls, as well as what seems to be a moat. I look at Rakepick, who's admiring her finished work.

"Very well, kids," she says. "Today you'll learn about _Deprimo_ , which is a very useful spell. Even stronger than _Bombarda Maxima_ and can even be used to cause tremendous damage in an opponent."

I roll my eyes when her lips curl in an evil smile. Next to me me, Liz groans and Rowan crosses her arms. Only Barnaby seems to be a little excited to show his strength through magic.

"The correct movement to cast this spell involves a lot of arm muscle. You must tension you whole arm and maintain your wrist very stiff. After that, you must keep everything hard as a rock while enunciating the incantation in a very clear voice," she explains. "Like this."

It seems so natural to her that it almost makes me frightened. She reaches her art towards the replica of the castle, leaving her whole arm rigid, and shouts the spell. A bolt of bright green light emanates from her wand, hitting one of the towers with surprising force. There's a strong explosion sound as the stones are propelled everywhere.

I lift my wand and visualize a dome of protection as I cast _Protego._ The stones hit my shield and fall heavily onto the floor while my classmates yell, protecting their faces. However, they aren't hit by them.

"Impressive, Miss Lockhart," Rakepick says. "Your creative forms to use spells are becoming stronger by the day. Very well. Now, who wants to be the first to use _Deprimo_?"

Barnaby raises his hand.

"Very well, Mr. Lee," she says. "The castle is all yours."

I watch Barnaby straighten his back as he walks firmly towards the little castle. Everyone takes a few steps back and I stand in the middle of my classmates, ready to cast the dome. Rowan looks at me with apprehension and I know exactly what she's thinking. That Barnaby's spell will most likely be even stronger than Rakepick's.

Barnaby lifts his wand and aims it at the stone building. His broad back is as tense as his arm and he doesn't seem to be even breathing. I bite my lip with the anticipation and he finally casts the spell.

" _DEPRIMO!"_

I barely have time to cast the dome. I close my eyes when three towers explode in a thousand pieces and the fragments of stone fly everywhere. Someone screams and I open my eyes to see Barnaby looking at us with fear in his eyes. His spell produced the strongest of effects and even Rakepick seems to be a little shaken.

Knelt in front of the crowd, Merula has her hands on her cheek, as a line of blood drips along her forearm.

"Merlin's beard, Merula!" Barnaby says. "I'm so sorry!"

"Don't apologize, Mr. Lee," Rakepick says. "She should've known better than to stand in the front line. Frankly, Miss Snyde, I thought you were agile enough to cast a shield. Now off to the hospital, Miss."

I look at Rowan, who nods at me, bearing a hint of preoccupation. I rush to Merula and help her stand up.

"I don't need your help, Lockhart," she complains, but I maintain my arm around her.

"Shut up, Merula," I say. "Let's go."

"Where are you going, Miss Lockhart?" Rakepick asks as I walk with Merula back to the castle. "Don't you want to demonstrate your use of _Deprimo_?"

"No!" I shout back, continuing my way.

Next to me, Merula moans as her cheek continues to bleed. There are drops of blood forming a trail on the stone floor and her legs seem to be weakening.

"Here," I say, withdrawing a handkerchief from my pocket. "Apply pressure."

She looks at me with wide eyes. For the first time since I've known her, she seems truly vulnerable.

"Why didn't she heal me?" she cries. "I thought she was my… my mentor."

"Yeah, right," I say. "Merula, you're intelligent enough to know that one cannot trust Rakepick."

"B-but she's powerful," she stutters. "S-she p-promised me…"

I stand in front of her, watching the handkerchief get redder by the second. Her eyes, pools of amethysts, look at me with profound sadness. Five years ago, when she got stuck in the cursed ice while trying to sabotage Rowan, Penny and I, I didn't feel sorry for her. This time, watching her look at me, so fragile and defenceless, makes something awaken inside of me. It's a strange feeling that I cannot bury.

"Let me see," I say, placing my hand on top of hers, which is pressing the cloth on the wound.

A tear falls down her cheek and she lets out a moan of pain as she pulls the handkerchief away. I swallow hard when I see the deep wound that crosses her cheek all the way towards her ear. It's deep enough for me to see the layers of tissue and the blood immediately starts to flood her face and fall down her neck, staining her shirt in a pool of dark red.

"I don't think I'll be able to heal you without leaving a scar," I say. "C'mon. Let's rush to the hospital."

She sniffs as she presses the white cloth back on her cheek and allows me to accompany her with my arm around her shoulders. I look at her discretely, noticing that her mascara and eyeliner are forming long, grey lines on her face, following the direction of her tears. It's a heart-breaking view and it makes me rub my hand gently on her shoulder as we walk to the hospital.

Luckily, we are not too far from Madam Pomfrey's care. We turn a few corridors until we find ourselves walking by the beautiful stained glass windows that lead to the hospital entrance. In there, Madam Pomfrey is checking a boy's temperature, but when she sees us and spots Merula's gory face and bloodstained shirt, she lets out a gasp and rushes in our direction.

"What happened?" she asks, worried.

"Problems in class," I say, simply. "You're more skilled to heal her than Rakepick. Can you heal her without leaving a scar?"

"Oh, of course," she says. "But you'll need a potion for the pain, Miss Snyde. Miss Lockhart, could you fetch the belladonna extract and the poppy syrup?"

"Yes, Madam," I say, rushing to the medicine cabinet. From afar, I can hear Merula sniffing.

I grab a basket and place the extract and the syrup flasks on it, along with some linen cloths. When I get back to the bed where Merula is sitting on, I hand the basket to Madam Pomfrey.

"Don't you have somewhere else to go?" Merula asks me with her jaw clenched.

I check my watch. "Not for thirty minutes or so," I say. "Do you want me to leave?"

She looks at me with trembling lips and reaches out to hold my hand. Her hand is smaller than mine; it's also cold and shaking. I hold it tightly while Madam Pomfrey asks her to lift her face and remain still. Merula's grip tightens as the nurse cleans the wound with water and applies a few drops of poppy syrup. Short little after, Merula stops shaking. She swallows hard as her eyes search for me. I try my best to bear an expression that makes her feel better, but the deep wound across her cheek makes my guts twist a little.

" _Percuro Major_ ," Madam Pomfrey chants, and a pale light emanates from her wand, making the wound close slowly.

At first, a thin line can be seen where the wound closed, but little by little, the line fades, leaving only a faint red stain on Merula's face. Madam Pomfrey drips a bit of the belladonna extract on a piece of cloth and uses it to calm the recently wounded flesh.

"There you go, Miss Snyde," she says. "Not a hint of a scar."

Merula sighs. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"I'll need you to stay here for just a few more minutes," she says. "I'll fetch you some tea for the nerves."

Merula nods and Madam Pomfrey disappears in an adjacent room. Apart from the boy laying down a few beds away from us, the hospital is empty. I use the cleaning spell a few times to clean Merula's shirt and she continues to look at me with a frail expression.

"Are you okay?" I ask and she nods.

She continues to look at me for a few more seconds and I watch a single tear, crystalline and full of pain, roll down her face. I reach out and dry it with my thumb and Merula lets out a single bitter sob.

"Thank you…," she says, sniffing. "Athena."

* * *

* Maps, by Maroon 5.


	96. Year 5: Chapter 12 - Beyond the Grave

**Chapter Twelve - Beyond The Grave**

 _A penny for my thoughts_

 _Oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar_

 _They're worth so much more after I'm a goner_

 _And maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singing_

 _Funny when you're dead how people start listening*_

* * *

"I need to replace my stock of caramel truffles," Rowan says, guiding us to Honeydukes where she proceeds to fill a basket with caramels, chocolate bars and gummy stars. Besides the library, I think the candy stone is one of her favourite places in the entire world.

I grab a chocolate bar of a brand called Wicked, which makes the most interesting flavours. There's a raspberry liquorice with specks of green tea, and also one of vanilla, violet petals and honeycomb. I pick one of the few ordinary ones: a milk chocolate bar with spots of white chocolate that is called Flying Cows. Next to me, Ben analyses the new pineapple chocolate frog. The whole gang is admiring their favourites, with the exception of Penny, that now spends all her free time making company to Beatrice.

"I think I'll take this one to Penny," Barnaby says, grabbing a box of strawberry truffles from the shelf. "I think it will make her happier."

I pay for my chocolate and, from the cashier, I can see Talbott looking at the many lollipops displayed on a wall and I watch him study a package of ten blood lollipops. After paying, I walk to him and place a kiss on his shoulder.

"They sound disgusting," he tells me.

"Why? Fresh blood tastes better?" I ask, amused.

He flashes me a white smile of pointy fangs. I bite my bottom lip, feeling my heart race with the memory of him leaning against me to drink my blood in the Forbidden Forest. He seems to notice my expression, because he looks back at the candy with blushing cheeks.

"Have you ever wanted to…" I say, slightly embarrassed. "To drink my blood again?"

He looks at me with even redder cheeks. "I-"

"You know, I… I wouldn't mind if you bit my neck ag-"

"Lockhart."

I turn around and see Merula standing right behind me. Her cheek hasn't a single hint of a scar and, this time, her makeup is intact. Though she's wearing a combo of black sweater, black jeans and combat boots, she doesn't look as scary as she used to. I don't mean to say that it was her tears and vulnerability that made me change my perspective of her a tiny bit… but yeah, that's what happened.

"Merula," I say, simply.

"I'd like to have a conversation with you and Weasley," she says. "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks in half an hour."

I lift my brows. "Okay."

She turns on her heels and leaves the store, her short hair shaking around her neck.

"She has definitely lowered her armour around you," Talbott says, walking to the huge bags of marshmallow. "Now these ones seem interesting."

"I confess that I really miss your cookies," I say.

He smiles. "I'll bake them for you on Christmas," he says, leaning to place a kiss on my lips. "I'll take one of these and a pack of these long wooden sticks. We can roast them tonight at the common room and I can read you some poems I wrote this past week."

"Poems?" I ask. "Plural?"

He shrugs. "You give me a lot of inspiration."

I smile, feeling my heart grow even larger. My father was right. Talbott looks at me like I'm his very sun. However, what Dad doesn't see is how I look at Talbott.

Like he is my entire galaxy.

* * *

The news that Merula Snyde hurt herself at a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson and ran away in sobs travelled through the entire school. The girl, however, managed to quickly change everyone's perspective about her by punching everyone who was bold enough to mock her. In a matter of two days, Merula had re-established her _status quo_ and everyone knew better than to stand in her way.

Well, everyone but us.

The knowledge that Merula had a softer side was what we needed to gain advantage against Rakepick. Not that we would mock Merula or make her feel bad about what happened, but knowing that she was capable of human emotion and that she was now completely mad at Rakepick made us realize that our psycho Dark Arts professor had nothing to surprise us anymore.

Though Rowan showed a tiny bit of concern when I told her about what happened to Merula, Ben was actually the one to show the most preoccupation.

"Did she hurt too badly?" he asked. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"Who cares?" Tonks said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like she lost a limb or something."

He looked away, slightly embarrassed, and he continued to demonstrate concern when Merula, Bill and I found an empty table in the corner of the Three Broomsticks. The rest of our friends sat at a larger table, on the other side of the pub. It didn't prevent Ben from flashing random stares at Merula.

"What's wrong with your friend?" Merula asks me. "Why is he staring at me?"

I shrug. "No idea. He's probably shocked that you have feelings."

She rolls her eyes. "Then I'll have to punch him too. I don't want people knowing that I cry."

"Don't be ridiculous, Merula," I say. "It's not shameful to demonstrate pain or vulnerability."

She entwines her fingers over the table. "I have a niche to fill, Lockhart."

"A niche of horror and blood?" Bill plays, drinking his Butterbeer.

"Merula, crying is a part of human emotion," I say. "We don't judge you."

She flashes her violet eyes at me, fierce. "I'm a witch, not an ordinary human peasant. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I talked to the Bloody Baron."

I raise my brows. "How was it?"

"Scary to you commoners," she says. "Just a regular conversation to me."

I exchange stares with Bill, who continues to drink with a mixture of fright and curiosity.

"What?" Merula says. "He's a ghost! It's not like he can slice you guys with his sword… _Not that he wouldn't enjoy that…_ "

"He's a bloody scary ghost," Bill adds. "But it doesn't matter. What did he say about Jacob's ghost friend?"

Merula takes a sip of her Butterbeer. "Duncan Ashe likes to hide in the Prefect's bathroom," she says, noticing Bill's horrified expression. "Not when you guys are there! Apparently he likes to chill out there, when no one's around."

"What a creep!" Bill shrieks at me.

"I know!" I agree.

"What's the matter?" Merula asks, confused. "I'd like to check out that place too. All the Prefects make it sound like heaven."

"It was… until I found out there's a ghost sneaking in there," Bill says.

"Don't be so dramatic."

"Very well then," I say. "Thank you, Merula."

"Not so fast, Lockhart," she says, seriously. "If you're going to that bathroom interrogate a ghost, then I want to tag along."

I frown. "Why?"

"I'm interested in anything concerning the Cursed Vaults," she says. "So if your brother's dead friend knows something about it, I want to be there to hear it."

I roll my eyes. "Fine. But I have one condition."

She crosses her arms over the table. "That nothing we find out gets to Rakepick? My lips are sealed."

"They better be," I say, firmly. "Or I'll feed you to the Giant Squid."

* * *

Instead of enjoying our free day at Hogsmeade like normal people, Bill, Merula and I return to the castle to look for Duncan Ashe. With everyone still in the village, we figured that the school would be pretty much empty, and the three of us entering a bathroom together wouldn't be a show for curious eyes.

We reach the fifth floor and walk past the statue of Boris, the Bewildered, who seems to look at us with suspicion. A few steps away, Bill stops in front of a tall, wooden door with a golden knob. It isn't an intricate door like the one at Ravenclaw tower, but it's different from the others. The wood seems brand new and the knob is shiny and designed with many arabesques.

"Bath bomb," he says, and we hear the distinguishable sound of the lock opening.

At first sight, it looks just like an ordinary bathroom. There are stalls at one side and sinks on the other, but as we follow Bill through a short marble corridor, we are faced with the most incredible tub I have even laid my eyes on. It's so impressive that I'm not even sure if it still fits under the category of tub. It seems like a blend between a pool and a Jacuzzi, and the water is so clear that it glistens under the candle lights. I walk around it, admiring how it's perfectly circular, surrounded by the many stained glass windows which reflect colourful patterns on the floor and on the surface of the water. In one side there's an insane amount of faucets. Right behind it, the stained glass bears the image of a mermaid sitting over a rock in a pond. A castle, a forest and a beautiful sunshine add to the complexity of the image. The mermaid flashes us a smirk and proceeds to fix her long, strawberry blonde hair.

"WOW!" I hear Merula gasp as she looks around in astonishment. " _This_ is the Prefect's bathroom?"

Bill nods. "Cool place, huh?"

" _Cool?_ " Merula says, shocked. "This is amazing!"

I look at Bill. "It doesn't seem like Duncan Ashe is here. Maybe he saw us coming in and decided to le-"

A loud splashing sound makes us turn around. There's a pile of clothes on the floor and a very excited Merula is swimming around in the tub, wearing only her black underwear. She proceeds to open every single faucet, looking mesmerized as each one produces a different effect. One seems to release a perfumed hot water, while other lets out a purplish shower gel. In just a few seconds, we're surrounded by an immensity of colourful bubbles.

"I have never seen her have this much fun," Bill tells me.

"Yeah," I say. "It's almost… weird."

We watch her disappear under water and return right after with a messed up makeup. She cleans her face with soap and returns to submerge. The entire bathroom smells of roses, lavender and lemon. She returns to the surface and rests her arms on the edge of the tub, with her hair full of foam and her face clean. It's strange, but she looks almost… pretty. I can't help but remember Tulip's boggart, back in third year. Merula sure looks a lot less scary without all that eyeliner and cranky face.

"I don't think Duncan Ashe is here," she says. "Maybe he's afraid of being found."

"I'm not afraid of anything. Least of all, you three."

I nearly leap out of my skin, turning around so abruptly that I almost sprain my back muscles. Inside the tub, Merula is panting, and beside me, Bill has every muscle completely strained.

Standing just a few meters away from us, is a boy around my age. He's a little shorter than Bill and still conserves his young, boyish features, such as rounded cheeks and wide eyes. He's still wearing the school uniform, which leads me to believe that it was probably what he had on when he died. His hair, now of a translucent greyish colour, must've been black or dark brown when he was alive. His face still bear a lot of livelihood, even though we can see right through him.

"Are you Duncan Ashe?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Who's asking?" he asks back, dry.

I straighten my back. "I'm Athena Lockhart."

His eyes widen, surprised. "Like Jacob Lockhart?"

"He's my brother".

His face twists into an angry, ugly frown. "Then I should kill you!"

"Hold on!" Bill says, firmly, in a tone of warning, but neither Duncan nor I move a muscle. I know a few ghost repelling spells, which is enough to prevent him from doing any stupidity.

"If Jacob stayed at Hogwarts, I would have found a way to kill him," Duncan spits. "Instead, he disappeared like the coward he is!"

My blood boils. "My brother may be a lot of things, but he isn't a coward!"

"So you're the Potions-Hater-Jacob's-Enemy we've been looking for," Merula says. "I thought you were his friend."

Duncan flashes her a stare full of rage. "I was friends with Jacob from the day I got sorted until the day I died. He's a coward. And a liar. And a thief. And a thug. He's arrogant, impatient, impulsive, insecure…"

"We got it. You have an extensive adjective arsenal," Merula says, rolling her eyes.

Duncan looks at me. "Leave me alone. Your brother already ruined my life. You don't get to ruin my afterlife!"

"What did he even do to ruin your life?" I inquire, nervous.

"You're just like him, aren't you?" he hisses. "Always pushing…"

"I don't underst-"

"Figure it out yourself," he says, sharply. "You might find that your brother isn't who you think he is."

I stare at him with confusion.

"Don't feel bad," he says. "He fooled me too."

Without a warning of any sort, he flies right through me, leaving within me an awful cold feeling, and disappears through the wall. Bill eyes me with concern, but I don't say anything. Inside me, the ice lingers and I feel as if I'm back at the first Vault.

Scared.

Frozen.

Lost.

The sound of moving water makes me look at Merula, who's leaving the tub and walking to a pile of folded towels. She wraps one around her body and places her hands on her hips.

"Seems like we'll have to take a look at your brother's hidden room, Lockhart," she says. "If Jacob and Duncan were friends until they weren't, I reckon they spent some time together there."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think Merula is right," Bill says. "Athena, you knew your brother. If something inside of you tells you he wasn't a bad friend, then he wasn't."

I turn to look at him. "I haven't seen my brother in five years," I say. "I was just a kid when he left. I can't rely on my feelings."

"Athena, you've come this far to find him," he says. "You can't start doubting your family now. Do you remember when you doubted your father because of Rita Skeeter? Don't doubt your brother."

I sigh, feeling a weight growing inside of me. "You have so much faith in your family, Bill. I feel like I'm easily broken."

"It's because things are hard," he says. "These curses don't make it any easier. You need to hold onto what's left of your faith, Athena. Onto your memories of your brother."

A few meters away, Merula watches us with, what seems to be, a pinch of sadness. Something in her violet eyes makes me think of her family. She never mentioned her Aunt. Are they close? Is she a good guardian like Grandpa and Grandma were to me? Does she miss her parents?

"Merula, I-"

"Let's take a look at your brother's room," she says, throwing the towel inside a laundry basket and beginning to put her clothes back on. On her lower back, there's a Celtic knot tattoo. I look away when she notices that I'm staring.

Seems like there's a bunch of things I'm still to discover.

* * *

I'm honestly not feeling very confident when we get to my brother's room. It has been a long time since I've last been there and the spider webs and dust show me that time cruelly pasts. How many days did Jacob spend in that same room, with his nose glued to books and charts and maps, wondering how he'd put an end to the Cursed Vaults? Did he find some friends and partners in crime to help him in his quest? Were Olivia and Duncan a part of that? My heart is filled with so many questions that I'm already feeling overwhelmed.

My fingers get dirty from the dust as I look through the many papers and parchment rolls. Merula looks for any clue on Duncan Ashe inside a treasure chest while Bill searches in a tall box. My nose begins to itch due to the dust, but I ignore the sensation and continue to search. There are many items inside the desks' drawers, like magnifying glasses and broken pieces of ceramic.

"I found a letter that mentions Duncan," Bill says, handing me a plain writing paper.

The handwriting doesn't belong to my brother. It's thicker and awfully familiar. I swallow hard before reading, hoping that the content doesn't destroy the last bit of faith that I still have.

"Do not blame yourself, Jacob. Duncan Ashe chose his path, and all paths end in the same place," I read out loud. "All except ours."

I swallow hard before continuing. "Despite that she told you, we could only accept one member regardless of what happened with the Vaults. You were always the favourite, but this tragedy, along with Miss Green's fate, negates the need for further discussion. Continue your search, trust your instincts, and rid your mind of rats and Centaurs. Remember, there are no friends on the path to enlightenment and immortality. There is only us. R."

I crash on a nearby chair, feeling my world twist fast and merciless. There's a lump in my throat and the sting in my nose makes me aware that I'm about to cry.

"Athena?" Bill calls.

"M-my brother was working with R," I moan, feeling my heart ache.

"Who's Miss Green?" Merula asks.

"It's probably Olivia's surname," I say with sadness. "It sounds like they were working together to find the Vaults."

"For… enlightenment?" Bill says. "Immortality? I don't understand the meaning of it all."

"It's very clear to me," Merula says. "They were looking for power."

"I'm mainly puzzled by the mention of rats and Centaurs," he says.

I sigh, feeling a tear running down my cheek. "That's the only part that makes sense to me," I say. "I need to talk to Torvus."

Bills kneels in front of me. "You're losing faith again. You don't know if Jacob was working with R. This letter means nothing."

I look at him, forlorn. "What does it mean, then?"

"If your brother was half as intelligent as you are, he'd know how to play his part," he says. "Do not let these things make you think less of him."

"Wow," Merula says, surprised. "Never thought you were such a great motivational coach, Weasley."

He stands up, running his fingers through his long hair. "I try."

"Okay, Lockhart. So we need to talk to this Torvus. Who the hell is he?" she asks.

I look at her and smile sadly. "Just a friend."

* * *

It has been a while since I've last been with Talbott in the depths of the Forbidden Forest. We wait until everyone has gone to bed and find our way to the common room, graciously escaping through the window. I had sent Twilight ahead, a few hours before, to ask Torvus to wait for us by the fallen tree.

As soon as we get there, he's already waiting. We transform back into humans and he smiles softly. His hair is a little longer; styles in a few sparse braids and bearing some feathers and small wooden beads.

"Good evening, Torvus," I say. "Thank you for meeting us."

"My pleasure," he says. "You two are marginally better conversationalists than the trolls and red caps."

"Did your herd welcome you back after returning the arrowhead?"

"They allow me to visit," he tells us. "But won't let me move back into the camp until I perform a series of tasks to earn their favour."

"That sounds harsh," Talbott says.

Torvus shrugs. "It's the Centaur way. Trust is hard to be earned. But what can I do for you today?"

"I wanted to ask you about what happened between my brother and Duncan Ashe."

He frowns. "I haven't heard his name in a long time. Why don't you ask Duncan yourself?"

"He was the one who told to figure it out ourselves," I say. "And he hating my brother doesn't help very much."

Torvus lifts his thick brows. "Well… he must blame Jacob."

"For what?"

Torvus look away, pensive. "They were searching for the Cursed Vaults together. Jacob was working on entering the Forest Vault, while Duncan was working on some potion. Perhaps to prepare for whatever Jacob thought was guarding the next Vault," he tells us in his taciturn tone. "Duncan wanted them to stick together, but Jacob wanted them to split up to move faster. I always thought your brother was particularly assertive and impatient, but perhaps he had a reason. Maybe someone else was pushing him."

I stick my hand in my pocket, where I kept R's letter. My fingers wrap around the paper and I feel my heart beat painfully.

"Duncan might feel like Jacob tricked him and abandoned him," Torvus continues. "That he'd still be alive if Jacob hadn't pushed him into making an already explosive potion even more powerful."

"That's the reason why Duncan hates potions," I say, surprised. "He was killed while making one."

Torvus nods. "I'm surprised the lived that long, actually. He was always into dangerous and reckless activities. Used to buy a whole lot of strange objects from Zonko's. Even broke his broom into smithereens once. Got himself a broken arm, but it never stopped him from being a prankster."

"It explains his friendship with Peeves," I say to Talbott.

He nods. "Now that you know about what happened, maybe you should talk to Duncan again," Talbott says.

"He won't want to see me," I complain.

"Bubo, it all sounds like an awful accident to me," he says. "If your brother went missing shortly after Duncan died, they probably didn't have time to talk about what happened."

My eyes widen. "You're… you're right!" I gasp. "Damn, I wish I had payed attention to the Prefect's bathroom windows. Maybe we can get in the by flying!"

Torvus snickers. "Your girlfriend is a true adventurer."

Talbott smirks. "She is."

"Thank you so much, Torvus," I say. "You are an amazing friend. Let me know if you ever need help with any of your tasks."

He nods. "It's a pleasure."

I hear him hop away as I rush to the glade to turn back into an owl. Before I have the chance to transform, Talbott pulls me by my wrist and pushes me gently against a tree. Suddenly, his lips are all over me. They are hot and inviting, leaving burning trails along my jaw and neck.

"Your lips still taste like roasted marshmallow," he says, biting my bottom lip.

I smile, feeling his arms closing around my waist. "Tal… did you ever wanted to… bite my neck again?"

Even in the dark, under the crescent moon, I can see him blushing furiously.

"I've never bit your neck," he says, his voice failing.

"Not technically," I say. "It's just something that's been on my mind. You said that blood lollipops sound disgusting, but I well remember you telling me that my blood tastes good."

He swallows hard. "And it does."

"Well… did you ever wanted to… taste it again?" I tease, running my fingers through his chest.

"Athena, this isn't a romantic vampire novel," he says, bashful. "I told you that I won't randomly attack you because I'm thirsty for your blood."

"I know," I say, bearing a devilish smile. "It's just that… the sensation was… intriguing. Quite pleasant, actually."

I tilt my head a little bit, leaving my neck a little more exposed. I watch him swallow hard again and I can feel his heart beating heavily in his chest.

"Stop provoking me," he warns, approaching his face from my neck in a way that I can distinctively feel his warm breath on my skin. It makes me shiver instantly. "You're making things harder."

"I'm not the one who pushed me against a tree in the middle of the night in the depths of a scary forest," I whisper.

He kisses my neck gently and I close my eyes, allowing the feeling to take over me. "C'mon. We still have a ghost to find."

He steps back and I open my eyes just as he's turning into an eagle and flying away into the starry sky. I let out an annoyed sigh before leaping and turning into an owl. I follow Talbott, flying towards the castle while looking for a window that might lead to the Prefect's bathroom.

The stained glass windows are distinguishable under the moonlight, but I see no way of entering. Talbott lands on the head of a gargoyle and blinks his red eyes at me. He doesn't need to speak for me to know what he's trying to say.

That there's no way of entering the bathroom from the outside of the castle.

I sigh, disappointed. We take flight again, this time back to Ravenclaw tower. The night air greets my wings as I try to fill my lungs with hope. I watch Talbott fly ahead, graciously yet precise, like a scar in the midnight sky.

I'm feeling a little dismayed when I finally land upon the fluffy blue rug of our common room, but I also feel accomplished for learning so much about Jacob and Duncan.

"We can talk to Duncan tomorrow," Talbott tells me, placing a kiss on my lips. "He's not going anywhere. And now you'll have better arguments when you go talk to him."

"You're right," I say, dismayed. "You're always right."

He flashes me a handsome smile. "Why are so you sad?"

I look down. "I don't know. I just a little afraid of finding out that my brother isn't… well, that he wasn't so…"

"Bubo, your brother isn't mean," he says. "After all you've uncovered, you know he wanted to save everyone from these curses. If he made a few mistakes along the way, that's what happens when you're a hero. Jacob couldn't be perfect all the time."

He lifts my face with his warm hand; his touching is gentle, yet reassuring. "Furthermore, all these things weren't Jacob's fault. This is a school and Dumbledore is the Headmaster. He should be the one watching over us, not playing us like chess pieces. Your brother did what was right. If Duncan was truly his friend, he would be more understanding."

"Wouldn't you blame me if you died during one of my crazy plans?" I ask him.

"No, my starry-eyed angel," he says sweetly, placing a kiss upon my forehead. "And I don't say this just because I am your boyfriend. I'm saying this because I know how dangerous life can be."

He cups my cheek delicately. "Last year, when I taught you how to become an Animagus and we flied together to the Quidditch pitch, do you remember what you said to me?"

I shake my head.

"You said that wanted to be my friend, because in these times of peril we could have each other's back. You're not just my sweetheart, my sun and infinity. You're my best friend, Athena. I'd never blame you if things went wrong."

I can't help but to open a smile. His voice is like a lighthouse that guides me through the dark. I wrap my arms around his neck and close the distance between us with a kiss that says more than a thousand words. My heart is gleaming and my soul is flooding with emotion.

"I lo…" I begin, but I swallow my words before I can say them.

No. This isn't the right moment to say this. Though I'm very certain and rejoicing with happiness, I don't want to say these words after talking about Jacob and Duncan.

Nevertheless, even though I never finish my sentence, Talbott opens one of the most beautiful, sparkling and breath-taking smiles of all times. He leans over to kiss me gently and the softness of his lips – like rose petals touched by dew – transports me to a whole new world.

Shining.

Shimmering.

Splendid.

And in the middle of it all, I see only him.

* * *

* If I Die Young, by The Band Perry


End file.
